I'm What Goes Bump In the Night
by Crislyn
Summary: 6yr.AU: Astrid Vanderhorn finds herself confronting English relatives after the death of her abusive father. Animals hate her, people don’t trust her, and her mother’s past is coming back to haunt her. But frankly, she doesn’t give a damn.LONGWAIT4UPDATES
1. Returning to the Mother Land

After 5th year:** Astrid Vanderhorn has been forced to move in with her godparents in England. Animals hate her, people don't trust her, and frankly she doesn't give a damn. RATED MOSTLY FOR SWEARING. LONG WAIT FOR UPDATES. BEWARE CONTENT CHANGE. (Warning: author suffers from a severe case of perfectionism)**

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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**"How far will one engine take us?" **

**"All the way to the scene of the crash." -Blue Collar Comedy (Ron White)**

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**Chapter 1**

_Tink. Tink. Tink_.

The clouds outside were rolling in, covering the slate gray sky that was a reoccurring sight to Oregon inhabitants in late July. Rain was just beginning to fall; it bounced off car roofs and ran down the windows of a warmly lit bookstore. The scruffy shop was hardly noticeable as it was squashed between a second hand used clothing store and an antique gift shop. Window shoppers rarely peered in to the store's windows, their eyes sliding right over the unremarkable little shop and on to the next as if it didn't even exist.

The wind picked up, carrying leaves and discarded newspapers across the street. The sky darkened and a steady downpour pelted the muggles now walking swiftly towards their cars in order to escape the oncoming storm.

Inside the dingy little shop, rows of books lined the walls and tables were scattered here and there. A fireplace was merrily burning at the far wall under a musty bookshelf. I wriggled comfortably in a worn plush chair in front of the fire, trying to block out the thundering sound of the rain.

Casting a distracted glare outside, I scanned a magazine article titled, **_Interesting Facts Concerning the Wand by Wren Huballed_**.

…_It is difficult for most people to find a wand that will prove to be compatible with them. It has been said that the wand chooses the witch or wizard, however, that is not necessarily true._

_Members of the Wizard's Association of Notable Discoveries, other wise known as W.A.N.D., reiterate that, by way of rigorous experimentation that is then complied with centuries of data, there is no actual proof that this parable is true. _

_Richard Eberhardt, vice president of W.A.N.D., states that, "A wizard's 'magical essence' (that which allows them to have/perform magic) seeks out a wand that would be best suited for them; magical essences can be quite picky...it's a false assumption that the wand chooses the wizard. It is really the wizard's magical essence that chooses the wand! However...because wands come in so many different forms, it is often difficult for a witch or wizard to come across a wand that will allow that person to channel their magical energy effectively and efficiently_."

_Historians claim that despite this, ancient records have fleetingly mentioned witches or wizards that did not require wands for spell casting. They didn't need to say a spell or mutter an incantation, merely gesture with their hands. Today it is an extremely rare witch or wizard who can manage without a wand, most don't even bother to try…_

"Boring." I sighed, idly flipping through the magazine. I watched the moving pictures for a while before carelessly tossing it on the table only to have it slide off and land on the floor along with some other reading material. Shrugging I checked the time.

"Making a mess I see." Roy's voice was hoarse and a tad wheezy as he tottered over. He'd spotted the mess I'd made and seem to shake his head in rueful amusement.

"This place is going to be a lot quieter without you here to make a nuisance of yourself." He said, rearranging the local newspaper, the **_Pacific Post_**, which I had torn apart earlier.

"I know. By the way, could you conjure up a cart for this stuff?" I waved towards three bulging bags and a battered trunk covered with faded stickers.

"Of course. Ah, there we go. That reminds me, I told Bridget I'd let you have a go at the shelves. Exciting I know, so try to contain yourself." He winked, his heart going out to the child. He and his wife would miss the girl when she left. She'd always spent a good portion of her time in here and that was before they'd taken her in.

His smile faded as she only nodded. Her father's death had been hard on her. She'd lost weight like a dog loses hair, and there were dark smudges beneath her dry eyes from nights spent staring into the fire. A naturally reserved person she'd rarely spoken of what went on at home. When they tried to talk to her about it she would change the subject or pointedly ignore the question. Over the years they'd become accustomed to her frequent visits and eventually thought of her as their own granddaughter

It was difficult seeing her like this and knowing that she would be leaving them to go live with strangers. The worst part was that there was nothing they could do about it.

"Thanks Roy." I said, seeing his worried face as I turned toward the shelves.

"You're welcome. Now don't waste any more time thanking me, get going." He said chuckling as he headed towards the counter. I tried to return the smile but it came out a more of a grimace.

I'd been sitting that chair for hours, not so much reading as thinking. I sighed, running a finger along the spines of books as I passed them.

Dad had died in June. We'd never been close, never gotten along, never talked about any of the things dad's and daughters are supposed to talk about...and it made me...angry. I couldn't stop thinking about what I'd missed out on. I'd wasted all that time hating him when I could've said something, anything, that might have...I dunno. I can't count the number of times I wished he would just disappear, that I'd wake up one morning and he'd be gone. And now he was gone and he wasn't ever coming back. It was hard. It was hard waking up every morning knowing that my father, the man who had grudgingly raised me, but raised me nevertheless, was dead. Gone.

We'd had a fight the night before. I can't even remember what it was about, something stupid I'm sure. He'd left work late and then gone to bar. On his way home he'd crashed, a three-car pile up.

I shook my head as I walked between the shelves. They always say to be careful what you wish for.

Following that train of thought I turned my attention to the books. I was tall enough to reach most of the shelves and for the ones I couldn't reach a little climbing did the trick. I hummed to myself as I strolled around, looking for anything remotely interesting.

"Oh and before I forget...Bridget wanted me to give these to you." Roy said, placing four thick books with tattered cloth covers on the counter as I passed.

"Tell her I said thank you. I'll pick them up on the way out." Roy nodded and said he'd have to say his goodbyes now because he and Bridget, his wife, had a dinner engagement. He was lying of course but I was relieved and grateful for his forethought. I wanted to be alone when it happened.

"That's fine, I can mosey on out through the back."

Roy smiled kindly at me, his tone wistful. "I knew we couldn't keep you here forever. I just want you to know, Astrid, that I couldn't have asked for a better granddaughter. I know, I know, but regardless that's what you've become to Bridget and I. You be good now. I don't want to send you a howler if I get any word that you've been causing your usual mischief." He said, pulling me into a hug.

I pursed my lips and blinked hard. I'd met Bridget and Roy the day after I found out I was a witch. I'd never known my mom, she'd died after giving birth to me. I didn't have any relatives on that side of the family with her being an orphan an' all. Now that everything in the house had been sold or given away I was leaving. Supposedly I had some third cousins or some such in London, my mother's birthplace. I'd never known her seeing as she'd died after giving birth to me, and seeing her home was the only reason I was going along with any of this.

"Thanks for everything. I won't forget you during Christmas. I hear they have really good tea."

He laughed and patted my back before pulling away.

"I'm sure Bridget would like that. Be safe." I watched him go with growing distress, for somehow it seemed all too real now that I was leaving behind everything I'd ever known. My home, my school, my _country_, all of it would be left behind because of some stupid ministry idiot.

Looking down at my watch I realized that I only had fifteen minutes left to browse.

"Books, books okay, lets go with you, you, and you. Perfect, that should just about do it. Hold on, what's this?" I had pulled out two books resting side by side. Behind them there appeared to be a slim volume stuck flat against the back of the shelf. It had a plain dusty black cover with small, faded gold letters across the front. **_Dropped Your Wand? By Cynthia Oaks._**

"Huh. I'll take you too. Two minutes to go. Damn I'm good."

I walked over to the cart and shoved the other books in there. I hooked up the straps to make sure nothing came loose. As I left I locked the door behind me before slowly making my way around back.

As I pushed the cart in front of me, I scowled. Rain hammered at me from all sides, dripping into my eyes and down my back. I pulled a face at the thought of showing up at my godparents' house looking like a drowned rat but there was little I could do about it. Thinking along those lines I felt my pockets.

"Where in the hell did I put...there it is!" From my back jeans pocket I yanked out a crumpled brochure sporting London's Top Ten Hotels. The ministry moron had forced the portkey, a transportation device designed to teleport people to a certain location, upon me before I'd left his office. At the time leaving here had been the last thing I wanted to do, but the idea had grown on me and it wasn't like I had a real choice.

I came to a halt next to a dumpster situated against the alley wall. A collage of various signatures and gang symbols had been spray-painted on it. My lips quirked as I noticed that my own slap-dash attempt at rattling the bottle could still be seen under all the grim it had collected over the years. A loud shot from an exhaust pipe out front drew my attention.

I closed my eyes and let the everyday inner city sounds of life filled my head: sirens, the reoccurring whoosh of passing vehicles, and the occasional squeal of tires. The smell of car exhaust and the other unique odors city streets emit when it rains filled my nose. I vaguely realized I had precisely twenty seconds left until the portkey was activated.

It felt like I had the entire migrating flock of monarch butterflies inside my stomach as I followed the count down.

"Four, three, two..." A gut wrenching feeling, similar to when a roller coaster flips over and then takes a nosedive, gripped me. I was jerked bodily from the ground along with my cart.

A dizzying display of colors and a deafening roar of wind pounded harshly against my eyes and eardrums. With my hand stuck fast to the brochure, and the cart, there was no way in hell that I could have let go. I let out an exhilarated scream of both terror and excitement. This was so much better than muggle amusement parks!

And then it was over. Without warning, I slammed into the ground. I pushed the cart off me and groaned. After a few seconds I pried open my eyes, trying to focus. I could smell dirt, dewy grass, and the air was strangely sharp. A drastic change from what I'd just left. Hearing a few gasps, a couple curses, and a scream I sighed softly. At least I'd arrived with a bang.

Turning toward the quickly approaching footsteps, I spied vivid red hair, and concerned freckled faces. I managed to smile and get out a smart-ass remark before shamefully passing out.

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**(A/N)**

**Okay this is how it's goin'g down. I have revised, and re-revised this story. I'm sorry for those of you who liked the original, but I felt this change was necessary. This is what I've been doing and why I have not updated lately.**

**Between school work, sports, and gasp, my social life, I've had very little time to write. When I do write, I try my best to ensure that I've corrected and rechecked my spelling and grammar. I think I've worked out the kinks and fixed some issues I had with the direction the story was going.**

**When I'm not satisfied, I know my readers aren't satisfied; thus I'm trying to doctor this baby up. **

**If you feel the need to air your grievances, register a complaint, or express your discontent and resentment about what I've done with this story, well too bad.**

**Pardon me if you've mistaken me for someone who gives a damn. Write a review about it.**

**Highly amused, the author.**


	2. From a Different Perspective

**"...We have a second cousin who's an accountant, but we don't talk about him much..." -Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (J.K Rowling)**

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**Chapter 2**

The Weasleys were all gathered around the small clearing where their distant relation was to appear. Most of the family had managed to show up despite their busy work schedules. Ron and his older brothers Bill and Charlie were sitting on the ground listening to Fred and George as they plotted ways to make their cousin feel welcome.

"Wicked! Where did you get the idea for something like that?" Ron asked, looking at his brothers in admiration. "That would be bloody useful if you wanted to put one over on somebody; do you think Mom would care if we gave it a trial run?"

The boy's laughed as Fred and George acted out the possible reactions of their cousin. Their little sister, Ginny, couldn't help but join in on the conspiracy. A unanimous vote had decided Astrid's fate earlier: she was going to be a test subject for joke products. If she wanted to be apart of the family she had to serve her time and that meant testing prototypes for Fred and George's store, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Arthur what time is it? Shouldn't she be here by now? I hope Ginny can get her settled comfortably in—in _his_ old room. Oh, I do whish that American Ministry had told us more about her, the poor thing." Mrs. Weasley, a very protective and plump witch, said as she paced back and forth. She kept glancing every now and then at the marked off area in the middle of the yard. The Ministry of Magic had arranged it so that the incoming American would be able to get settled in right away with her godparents.

"Calm down Molly, I'm sure she'll be fine. Didn't you meet her father once?" Mr. Weasley, an exhausted, but cheery man, asked changing the subject.

"Yes, I did." Mrs. Weasley pressed her lips together.

"I was visiting our cousin Mildred and her family while they were visiting from America, oh, years ago! Anyway we got to talking and she mentioned that her nephew, Kevin, had finally come to visit. He'd gone off to be an accountant or some such nonsense." Mrs. Weasley sniffed disapprovingly.

"Well when Mildred was on her way to passing over, he showed up. Unpleasant man, he looked down his nose at us. Eventually he asked me if I would take Mildred's place as his daughter's godparent. He seemed uncomfortable about it, but I—" Whatever Mrs. Weasley was going to say was interrupted by a thunderous crash, Ginny's scream, Fred and George's curses, and the collective gasps of the rest of the family.

"Blimey!" Ron scrambled to his feet. He caught up to his brothers as they gathered around the girl huddled on the ground. The trolley cart was crumpled into a heap of useless metal, the trunk, two duffle bags, and backpack were now resting at least ten meters from what was left of the trolley cart. Their distant relation groaned, her face smudged with dirt as she looked up at them.

"They always say to make a good first impression. I just didn't know they meant literally." Her eyes closed, and they knew she'd blacked out.

"Did you see that? She must have been hit by at least two of those bags, and I saw that larger heavy looking case slam into her right at the end there. Bet that hurt." Ron stared agape next to Ginny, who had her hand over her mouth. Fred elbowed George and they started to pick up the various bags scattered over the yard.

"We'll have to keep this area looped off." Fred chuckled as he lifted one of the large duffels.

"Yeah, we'll tell every one that's where the asteroid hit!" George gathered up the other duffle and followed his twin inside.

"You three, put the rest of her luggage in her room. Arthur, pick her up and place her on her bed while I check my family potion kit." Mrs. Weasley ordered before hurrying into the house.

"You heard your mother, lets get to it." Arthur pulled out his wand and floated Astrid into the house and up the narrow, creaky steps. Bill, Charlie, Ron, and Ginny gathered up the rest of her stuff and followed suit.

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**A/N: **

**Short, but I thought a different point of view would make it more interesting.**

**This attempt probably isn't much better but there you are. Only constructive criticism, if you flame you've wasted your time; flames will be ignored, criticism accepted and appreciated. Don't bother yourself if you don't want to because I rarely check my mail anyway.**

**Well, if any of you remember that short blurb in the first book when Ron and Harry first meet, Ron mentions a second cousin. I've modified it to serve my needs.**

**Enjoy, the author.**


	3. Uprooted Yet Again

**"Keep your hands and arms inside the carpet, and we're outta here!" -Aladdin**

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**Chapter 3 **

Sunlight peaked through a small hole in the wall; the light burned brightly into the backs of my eyelids. It took me a second to realize that the hole was actually a small curtained window and that I must be in my relatives' house. I shifted under the covers, stubbornly pulling them over my head.

"Ah, damn that's bright!" Giving up I rubbed my eyes and made various disapproving noises that would have done a mountain troll proud.

Remembering my rough landing I stretched, trying to sense any soreness. Not a thing, I was perfectly fine. I gave an appreciative grunt and swung my legs out of bed. Stacked up against the wall across from me were all my things. The room was quite small and shabby looking, but that didn't really register. It was a room I could sleep in and claim as my own and that was all that really mattered.

I listened for a minute but couldn't make out any noise or smell anything cooking. I decided to lay down for a few more minutes and allow myself to wake up a bit more. No need to give them all a heart attack by coming down the stairs in all my morning glory. I listened to the various chirps and twitters from birds outside my window. The absence of any sort of clamor from traffic suggested that the house was situated in the country. Out in the boonies and away from any type of civilization. Great. A few groans and shuffling feet a half hour later told me I better get my lazy bum up out of bed.

"Hello? Astrid, are you up?" A girl maybe a couple years younger than me peaked into the room as she knocked. Her face was freckled and fiery red hair had been pulled back from her face.

"Unfortunately. May I ask why you even bothered to knock if you didn't plan on waiting?" I drawled. The girl turned pink, but quickly shrugged it off.

"Nope. Well, anyway mum's serving breakfast." She gave me a hesitant smile and closed the door.

Rolling out of bed I nodded absently to myself and scratched my back as I knelt before my battered looking bags. Digging through them I threw on some sweats and headed down. I navigated my way safely down the rickety stair case that zigzagged up to the higher stories. It was a good thing my room was on the second level because there was no way in hell I was going to hall my arse up and down _that _every morning. You could easily twist and ankle and easily break a few other bones on the way down.

I came through a narrow hallway that led into an overcrowded kitchen. A scrubbed table and chairs had been somehow squeezed into the small space along with a merrily burning fireplace and other kitchenware. Oblivious to the curious stares of the rest of the family I plopped down in the nearest chair.

"Good morning Astrid." A happy, and well, utterly motherly voice greeted me kindly. I'm not a morning person and therefore exonerate myself from all accusations concerning my attitude.

"What's so good abo-out it?" I grumped through a yawn. A snicker on my left caused me to glare in that general direction.

"Touchy. Someone woke up on the wrong—."

"Don't finish that sentence if you wish to keep all protruding body parts intact." I said calmly, yawning yet again. Whether they believed me or not I don't know but they didn't speak again, although there was some good-natured chuckling. I took a deep breath and perked up at an all too familiar smell.

"Coffee?" I asked hopefully. A steaming mug was set down in front of me and I sighed with pleasure. The sound of someone groggily making there way down those cursed stairs reached my ears. I ignored the new arrivals and took a couple sips from my mug, grunting in approval at its flavor.

Feeling more alert I looked around the table. A tall, lanky boy had just stumbled into the seat across from me. A pair of twins sat to my left, and on my right was that girl. At the end and head of the table were the two adults I greeted with a respectful nod. Beside the lanky boy, sat two older boys. And every single one of them had flaming red hair.

_What is this a cult?_

"Feeling better?" The matronly woman who'd I assumed had given me my coffee asked. She had a kind, open face.

"Much." I gave her a mock salute with my raised mug.

"Well, um it's nice to finally meet you, Astrid. I'm Arthur and this here is Ron," A man who must be the woman's husband said, pointing at the lanky youth.

"You've met Ginny there, and those two are Fred and George." The identical twins grinned evilly. I guessed this was supposed to intimidate me. I just snorted before having more of my coffee.

They raised their eyebrows, turning to one another before coming to a silent agreement and then eyed me gleefully.

"You left quite an impression mate. I don't think the yard is ever going to be the same." They said together.

_Okay kinda creepy._ I thought before turning my attention back to Arthur.

"That over there is Bill," The taller of the two eldest boys who had long hair pulled into a ponytail waved. An earring hung from one of his ears.

"—And that over there is Charlie and my wife Molly." The other guy was on the short and stocky side like the twins, however his whole body was covered in freckles making him look tan. His arms were muscled and had scars here and there, reminding me of my own.

"Hi." I said, addressing them all. I don't think they cared for my shortness, but I really didn't care. It was too early and truth be told I was nervous. Hesitantly, I started to dish up with the others. It wasn't long before they began to ask about my life back in America.

"I went to the Salem Witched Institute in Mass, better known as Massachusetts, and lived in Oregon during summer vacation with my dad until just recently. I've been staying with some family friends since then. I hate animals, like brooms, and worship coffee. Not really much to tell." I shrugged.

They seemed at a loss for words and a little taken aback by my abruptness. Good, that was the effect I'd been aiming for.

_Not._

"To be honest I'm only here to see what it's like. You'll only be stuck with me for a couple months though-"

"Oh, that's no trouble dear. You are family and we always help each other." Molly said in a loving but somehow matter of fact voice that clearly said she'd have it no other way. I warmed toward her considerably, glad that she didn't hold whatever nonsense I spewed out at the moment against me. I even gave her a small smile.

"Um, you're going to Hogwarts with us now right?" Ron asked curiously through a mouthful of eggs. I pretended not to understand him.

"I'm sorry, what was that? I was too busy watching you chew your food." I said lightly. His ears turned red and I sensed a little bit of tension fill the room. I swore silently. Damn, I hadn't meant to say that. Truth be told though, his manners or lack there of were disgusting.

Finally Bill, the one with longish hair, broke in before the tension could grow into anything serious.

"She's right Ron. Finish chewing your food before you speak." He slapped him on the back, causing Ron to move forward a little bit. Ron seemed to make a decision and gave me a sheepish smile.

A bit embarrassed, I ignored him and decided to act like I hadn't said anything. He shook his head and muttered some unintelligible words to himself.

"Yes, Astrid will be attending Hogwarts with you this year. Dumbledore has been asked to form a Magical Exchange Program along with several other schools. With everything that's happened lately the Minister has been inundated with letters from families demanding he let their children exchange schools. You see, with the up coming war," here everyone's faces became grave, "people want to have their families close at hand. Although it surprises me that they aren't demanding that their children be admitted to Hogwarts. Everyone with an ounce of sense knows it's the safest place compared to anywhere else."

_What?_

I might be a foreigner, but I'd read enough to know what was going on over here and that was a stupid comment. Hogwarts was the last place someone should send their children.

For a few minutes no one spoke. We were all reflecting in our own thoughts. Personally I was furious that my Ministry would shove me onto this family who barely seemed to be getting by as it was if their humble abode was anything to go by, not to mention this Voldemort character. I'd heard about him, but it was more from a historical point of view. I was going to have to get used to everyone's accent also. I'd almost lost her there for a second as she ranted.

"Well, anyway, are you planning on going to Diagon Alley sometime today?" Bill, who appeared to be the official silence breaker asked.

"No. Not until the post arrives anyway. Arthur?" Molly gave her husband a questioning look.

"That seems about right—" A whoosh from the fireplace interrupted him. Instantly every single one of the Weasleys were on their feet, their wands aimed toward the offending noise. A ragged looking man with graying hair had stepped out of the fireplace.

"Remus! My goodness you scared us half out of our wits. What in the world were you thinking? We could have cursed you senseless and then where would we be?" Molly said. He eyed them all gravely and the room was suddenly dominated by fear and worry.

"It's time Arthur. Severus just informed Dumbledore. You must leave as soon as possible. I'm here to help you pack." Molly had stopped berating him and was trembling slightly.

Arthur hugged her to him and she seemed to pull herself together. She spun around and I swear she grew ten feet tall.

"I want you all down here in twenty minutes with your things packed! MOVE!" She bellowed like a general ordering her troops.

I watched the others scramble up the stairs, Ron in the lead.

"Fred, George, I want you to use magic to help your sister and brother. I don't know when we'll be coming back." Arthur told them. They nodded grimly and with a crack were gone. I was surprised that they had disapparated, another form of transportation that allowed one to instantly transport to other places. Only wizards and witches who were of age and passed a test received a license could apparate or disapparate.

"What are you sitting around for Astrid? GET MOVING!" Taking her own advice Molly began firing off all sorts of packing charms. Arthur and Remus helped her.

Charlie, or I think it was Charlie, grabbed me by the elbow and began steering me toward the stairs.

"Let go of me please." I said patiently. I did realize that this was some sort of emergency but I was already packed.

"Sorry. But it wasn't safe for you to stay in the kitchen. Mum's been preparing for this since we found out. It will only take about ten minutes for everyone to be completely ready. They should be already packed. We have to get out of here as fast as possible."

Not knowing what else to say I nodded. I'd stalled out of habit, as it annoyed the hell out of my teachers and other authority figures.

"Right." Pulling away from him I ran to my room and quickly slung on my backpack. Charlie grabbed my duffle bags and hurried down stairs. I grabbed the handle of my trunk and drug it onto the landing. I gave it a hard shove that sent it thundering down the steps.

"Look out below!" I hollered. Bill, who must have already packed his stuff along with Charlie's, appeared at the bottom steps and quickly snatched up the trunk and hauled it away. I heard a noise of frustration from the room up the way and sighed as I reluctantly went to help.

I peeked in and found Ginny trying in vain to lock her trunk. I tapped her on the shoulder and gestured for her to move over as she was already sitting on it.

"Okay then, one. Two. Three!" We both jumped down on it hard and were pleased to hear it snap shut.

"Alright, let's toss this baby." I said, helping her drag it onto the landing. She grinned and promptly sat down on it.

Rolling my eyes I followed her example and then shoved off. I instantly regretted it. I'd forgotten that this was _not_ a straight stairway, but one with vicious twists and turns. We only rammed into three walls on the way down.

The commotion drew the tired and drawn looking man named Remus over. He gave us a concerned look.

"Sorry." Ginny said sheepishly, wincing as she rubbed her shoulder.

I groaned and unceremoniously tumbled off the trunk. "Next time I'll remember to put my tray table in it's up right and locked position before take off."

"Look out!" I heard the commotion of another speeding trunk coming down the stairs and rolled out of the way. It was closely followed down by Ron and the twins.

A minute later we were all standing in front of the fireplace. The other luggage had already gone through, or had been apparated there. With a nod from Arthur the twins disapparated, the rest stayed behind to ensure our safety. Remus handed me a slip of paper as the others stepped through the fireplace yelling out something that seemed to slip around my hearing range.

"Quickly, read this." It was an address. I suddenly understood. This was a place that was hidden by a charm I'd heard about in school. I couldn't remember what it was, annoying me to no end; however this was not the time.

"Done." I grabbed a handful of floo powder, a dust that activates fireplace travel, and tossed it into the flames. They leaped higher and turned emerald green.

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place." I stated clearly. One did not have to yell the wished destination. The green flames engulfed me and I was whisked away. I made sure to keep my elbows tucked tightly to my sides. I didn't want to run into any of the passing fireplaces.

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**A/N:**

**Still plodding away, the author.**


	4. Faster Than a Rampaging Hippogriff

"**Fire is the test of gold; adversity, of strong men." -Senaca**

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**Chapter 4**

I stumbled out of the fireplace coughing, for I was covered in soot.

"Blast! Stupidest way to travel if there ever was one." I griped some more as I swatted at my clothes. Giving up I looked around. It was a depressing sight. In front of me there rested a long wooden table packed with chairs. The walls were roughly cut stone. Heavy, old pots and pans hung up around the kitchen.

I rubbed my arms and sat down in a chair. The others who had arrived were all talking worriedly to other people I didn't know. I kept quiet and listened. I wanted to know what all this hubbub was about. The piece of paper mentioned some Order and a headquarters.

"Do you suppose Snape—"?

"_Professor_ Snape, Ronald!" A bossy, bushy haired girl scolded.

"Yeah. He must have heard something and told Dumbledore." I tried to put names with the faces, but I'd only met them this morning.

"Why d'you reckon we had to move this morning? Don't they usually strike at night?"

"Probably wanted to sneak up and surprise us."

"Stay unpredictable."

"Do you think we'll get to go home?" Ginny, I believe that's her name, asked the group quietly.

The others didn't say much after that. We were all still waiting for Molly and Arthur to arrive with Remus. A couple minutes later they all appeared with a loud _crack_. The others launched themselves out of their seats and surrounded the trio. I caught snatches of the conversation but it didn't make any sense to me. They seemed to have forgotten I even existed, which was fine by me. Unable to piece together any useful information, I searched for my luggage. It might have understood more of what they were saying if I'd been a little bit more familiar with British jargon, while not a different language I still wasn't used to it.

Sighing after I realized that my stuff had been thrown haphazardly across the room, I decided it was probably best if I left them to it and had a look around. They were too caught up in the excitement, or terror, I wasn't really sure which. I twirled my wand through my fingers as I made my way up some stone steps and into a dimly lit hallway. I noticed old fashion gas lamps provided the poor lighting.

I walked quietly, not wanting to disturb anything. Rather large, rectangular pieces of wall stood out in the gloom; it looked like someone had removed objects that had hung there for years. There was an enormous discolored piece of wall near the end of the hallway. An old, life size painting, or perhaps a mirror used to hang there I guessed. I reached a spiraling staircase with intricately carved handrails that looked suspiciously like large serpents. In fact, the whole decor so far seemed to include dark or subdued colors and snakes.

"Talk about obsession. Must be some old wizard's house. I do like the snake thing though. A touch overboard, but not bad." I figured someone must have come through and disposed of the truly ridiculous things. I slowly headed up the stairs, spying several other discolored places on the walls as I passed.

"Astrid! Where is she? Ginny, are you sure she came through? ASTRID? Astrid?" I cringed as Molly's frantic voice reached my ears.

"Good grief woman." I muttered to myself. She sure was a protective thing.

"Yeah? I'm here! Just exploring." I said as I made my way back down to the hallway. A look of relief passed over Molly's face. She and the rest of her army had reached the bottom steps.

"What were you thinking running off like that?" Molly scolded me, dragging me back down the stairs and into the basement kitchen.

"You don't want to go off explorin' in this house mate. Lots of dark stuff that's bound to get you unawares." Somebody said gruffly. I tried not to roll my eyes. I could handle myself thank you very much.

"Who's that?" A freaky looking man with a wooden leg and a bulging blue eye growled. He was missing a huge chunk out his nose. I'd seen weird people back home, but he took the cake. I shrugged inwardly and supposed I'd get used to it.

"That's Astrid, ourcousin from America. She'll be living with Mum and Dad from now on." Bill told him.

"She'll be helping us with our newest products. In fact, if our calculations are correct," George, who was wearing a white shirt, said while pretending to check the time.

"And they usually are," Fred, who was wearing a white shirt with a stain, said.

"Then our first product should be taking effect,"

"In a few short minutes." The way they finished each other's sentences was kind of creepy.

"Fred, George! I told you not to prank her! How many times MUST I tell you?" Their mother really had a powerful set of lungs. I thought about my morning and didn't remember anything unusual, but then again I didn't know what was normal for that house either.

"Where did you guys plant it?" I tried to think of everywhere I'd been this morning.

"You never know." They gave me identical impish grins. "Could have been anywhere."

A shriek from behind Charlie startled everyone. Ginny, or I assumed it was Ginny, was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at the twins. Two black horns peaked out from beneath her hair and a long tail lashed savagely behind her. Her skin had turned as red as a ripe tomato, and her nails were black to match her horns.

"I see you're finally showing your true inner spirit, Gin. I always knew you were a little devil." The twins burst into peals of laughter. Everyone else who was standing in the kitchen, and there several not including the ones I knew, chuckled or hid their smiles behind their hands.

"I TOLD you not to put it on the BLODDY DOOR! How THICK HEADED can you POSSIBLY BE? GRRR!" Ginny launched herself at her twin brothers. One of them dove beneath the table while the other one decided to sacrifice a tall, skinny, black haired boy with glasses.

Molly was shouting, trying to be heard over all the laughter and the ruckus that followed as the twins continued to evade their sisters murderous clutches.

I had a smug look on my face as I tripped one of the twins, I really couldn't tell them apart as they were moving to fast, and the other one tripped over his counter part. They both tumbled to the ground soon followed closely by an angry red demon.

"Oops, how clumsy of me." I said dryly. Ginny had a hold of one of their throats before Arthur, Charlie, and Bill pulled them apart.

"Everyone to your rooms! I want you ALL settled in before lunch! Hermione, help Astrid find a room." I looked around for Hermione. The bushy haired girl bustled me out of the kitchen, grabbing one of my duffels. I slung on my backpack and grabbed the other one. We'd come back for the trunk.

"Hello, I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I'm Hermione Granger, I go to Hogwarts with Ron." I tried not to wince at her. Her articulation was disgustingly perfect, and the way she seemed to almost, yet not quite, talk down to you.

"Astrid." I said, following her up to the fourth landing.

"Well, Astrid, This is the room I share with Ginny. Did you want your own? You're more than welcome to bunk with us."

"My own please. I wouldn't want to intrude." I said, forcing myself not to snap at her.

"No, really, it wouldn't be a problem." She insisted, opening the door.

"No thanks, Hermione. If you don't mind, this is getting heavy." She pursed her lips, obviously disappointed but not willing to push the issue farther. I shook my head at her back. She didn't say much until we reached an evidently vacant room. The door had once been painted black, however over the years most of it had peeled off.

She opened the door and set down my bag besides a musty, four-poster bed with green hangings. The rest of the room was empty save for a small night stand, a mirror, and two other doors I assumed led to the bathroom and a closet.

"Thanks." I said curtly, dropping my stuff on the floor to inspect the rest of the room.

"You're very welcome. Now, you can go ahead and get settled in. I'll ask one of the boys to apparate your trunk up here." She gave me an encouraging smile and left.

"Yeah, whatever." I said and proceeded to open one of the doors. It was a good-sized bathroom, perfect for one person. I smiled in amusement as I noticed that the same gothic, snake touch had been used in this room also. While I was using the bathroom I heard someone drop off the trunk before popping back out.

"Cool." I said as I surveyed my room. It was certainly spacious. It was almost like a master bedroom, though it had a slightly masculine touch to it. I shrugged and decided to break camp. As I added my own room items I speculated on what my life would be like now. Would I make friends at this stupid wizard school? Did I care? No, not so much. I was more interested in causing major mayhem, only this time nobody would know to suspect me. No more questions on who charmed the walls orange or lit so-and-so's hair on fire.

I unrolled a thick rug I'd brought from home out of my trunk, which had supposedly been my mother's. It was ideal for traveling. I could shove all my school supplies, including my cauldron and books, into one of five compartments. I had a set of old metal keys that opened the five different locks on the trunk. All I had to do was insert one of the keys into the keyholes and then open the lid to show that compartment. If I wanted to use a different compartment I'd shut the trunk, lock that compartment, unlock the compartment I wanted, then open the trunk again.

After I'd unrolled the black rug, luckily it matched the room, I began stripping down the bed. There was no way I was crawling under those bug-infested things. Who knew what could be under there? Not to mention the fact that the sheets could be used. I shuddered at the thought.

"Used sheets, oh gross!" I folded the old bedspread and what not before kicking it under the bed. If someone needed more blankets they could have these. Done with that I decided to unpack everything I wouldn't be taking to school. I'd left the bathroom door open so I went to see what was behind door number two.

"What do we have for her Johnny?" I opened the door and just as quickly slammed it shut. "Holy shit!"

The door rattled as the thing slammed into it. I braced myself against the door, trying to bolster it with my body. The door jumped forward and I slammed it shut again, ramming it with my shoulder. There was no lock on the door to hold it in. Bloodcurdling screeches and squawks came from the creature.

"Shit, shit, shit!" The door shuddered and I could hear it clawing at the door. The wood started to splinter as it grew more frantic. I knew I couldn't hold it back anymore. I spotted the main door and judged the distance.

"One, two, GO!" My adrenaline was high as I sprinted across the room and slammed the door shut behind me. Not looking back I practically flew down the stairs, thankful that no one else was there to get in my way.

I must have jinxed my self with that last thought as the door on the second landing opened. The boy with glasses from the kitchen looked up from where he stood. He froze in surprise as I tore down the stairs, the monster in hot pursuit.

"MOVE!" I bellowed. He seemed to come back to his senses and to my surprise grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the room. He almost managed to bolt the door shut before the thing stuck it's hooked beak into the room. He was thrown to the floor as the bird like horse came at me.

"BUCKBEAK, DOWN! DOWN BOY!" The battered looking man with graying hair was launching himself at the beast from his place next to the door. Taking advantage of the distraction I ran out the door, down the hallway and through a room with moss green carpet, and into a room with several glass cabinets. I whipped my head back and forth, looking for the lock; I saw a thick wooden door just ahead and without pausing dove inside. I prayed that there were no spiders or other biting creatures.

There was a heavy wooden board that bolted the door shut. I slammed that down and leaned against the door. Not five seconds later there were a series of vicious slashes and bangs on the other side. I was nearly tossed but managed to catch myself. I let out a shaky breath when I realized the door would hold.

"Shit that was close." I heard shouts from people trying to subdue the animal. I put my hands on my hips and slowly paced back and forth, trying to slow my breathing. I couldn't see anything and I didn't want to stray far from the door. I wiped my brow with my forearm and leaned heavily against the door. I felt like a limp noodle.

_I haven't ran like that since School ended. _

I scrunched up my face as I tried to think of what the animal could be. I wanted to call it a hippogriff, but it couldn't be. Who keeps a hippogriff as a house pet? I'd just wait for them to get the thing under control. Twenty, then thirty-five minutes went by before someone gave me the all clear.

"You can come on out Astrid! It's safe!" I snorted.

_Yeah right._

Collecting myself, I heaved up on the plank and opened the door.

Arthur and Remus were still panting heavily; their clothes had been ripped in a couple of places and Charlie was sporting a black eye and a painful gash on his arm. I winced sympathetically, unconsciously tracing the nearly invisible scar running down the inside of my forearm.

There were several others who looked worse for wear as well. A woman with shockingly pink hair was grimacing slightly as she shifted on her feet and the freaky guy with the eye was glowering at me along with a couple other older men.

I gave them all a small nod of thanks before retracing my steps out the door. This house was a lot bigger than I'd thought.

"Stop right there. What did you do to the hippogriff? Why were you even near its room in the first place? You shouldn't be snooping around where you're not wanted, girl." The man with the chunk missing from his nose growled menacingly, stepping in front of me.

"Excuse me? Snooping around where I'm not wanted? Better watch your self old man. That thing was hiding in my closet and I sure as hell didn't put it there." I said scathingly.

The look on his face and would have had me running if I wasn't so worked up myself. I'd been scared shitless when I was running through those rooms and he had the audacity to tell me that I wasn't welcome here and that it was somehow my fault? As if!

"And you know what? I don't care if you don't want me here. Its not like I had a choice in the matter anyway, I had to come here! You obviously have no idea what you're talking about and have _no_ right to accuse me of prying, especially when it's your own fault. If you didn't want me around the damn hippogriff then you should have taken better precautions!" I let out a disbelieving snort and stalked past him, my chin raised stubbornly.

"Get back here, girl!"

"Go to hell!" I flipped him off over my shoulder and stormed back through the rooms. I heard what could have been laughter but was too angry to pay attention. I passed my cousins, Hermione and the boy with the glasses as I stalked out of the room with the moss-green carpet. They were eyeing my warily. I would have too if I'd noticed the thin stands of crackling black energy jumping around my fingertips.

I remembered several other fights I'd had with my dad before he died. He'd been a large, muscular man with a terrible temper. I reached my room and was too busy fuming to notice that my door slammed shut without me ever touching it. It had always stunned people that my dad was an accountant and not some professional boxer.

_Because you have to be able to take the pain you dish out_, I thought bitterly.

I marched over to my truck and yanked out my boom box a friend from school had bought me one year. It was one of my most cherished items. It was magical and was charmed to play muggle compact discs along with wizard channels, illegally of course. It'd taken months before I got the thing to work properly. I pushed play and cranked up the volume.

I exhaled noisily and lost myself in the music. It was hard rock music that always pissed off my dad with all the screaming guitars and heavy base. I smirked at the thought of playing a little Rob Zombie. I rolled over and put him in. Dragula blared into the room.

_Dig through the ditches and Burn through the witches and slam in the back of my Dragula!_

I turned it down after a while, feeling a bit more relaxed. I loved music, it was a great outlet for frustration; so was hitting a punching bag my dad had given me, but I'd sold that before I left the States. A tentative knock on my door made me groan. Had I not made it clear that I wanted to be left alone?

"Go away! I don't need help! I'm not hungry, and no I would not like to talk!" I yelled through the door. There were a few moments of silence before I head them slowly head down stairs.

_I hope that wasn't Molly. She really does make excellent coffee._

I sighed and decided I should take a shower. Glancing at my watch, which I realized was inaccurate due to the change in time zones. I figured they'd give me another hour or so before sending someone up to get me.

* * *

**A/N: **

**If you guys remember Sirius saying he put Buckbeak in his mother's bedroom, in this chapter I am implying that some rooms are connected...like old Victorian married couples' rooms.**

**Later, the author.**


	5. Dinner Paranoia

"**All men by nature desire knowledge." -Aristotle**

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**Chapter 5**

I spent another three hours in my room much to my surprise and pleasure. I'd stuck in some Linkin Park and was enjoying the privacy of my room. It actually looked normal and not half so lifeless and dark as the rest of the house. I guessed it was around dinnertime when somebody knocked on my door. I got up from sitting on my bed and sorting through my clothes.

"Yeah. What d'ya want?" I asked, raising my eyebrows expectantly. I stood in front of the partly opened door, clearly saying 'no, you may not come in'. Hermione was standing on the landing looking a little uncertain.

"Dinner is ready." I nodded and quietly shut the door behind me. I motioned her to lead. She looked like she wanted to ask about a million questions; I did not encourage conversation, merely nodding or grunting when she tried to make small talk; she resignedly gave up after her third attempt. By the time we reached the kitchen everyone was seated.

"Hello, there Astrid. Feeling better?" Molly asked kindly.

"I never felt bad, Molly. Thanks for asking though." I said politely. I sat down next to the bumble gum headed chick and Ginny. Hermione sat between Ron and the bespectacled boy. I dished up with everyone else.

"This smells great." I said to no one in particular since I didn't know who was responsible. I was just about to dig in when I caught a furtive look passed between Ginny and Ron. I stopped and considered my plate for a moment. Had they jinxed it? Fred and George probably slipped something in it I realized. Nah, that would have contaminated all the food. They'd probably jinxed the plate its self. I held in a frustrated shout. I was hungry damn it!

Not wanting to rouse suspicion I pretended to drink from my cup; I didn't even let my lips brush the edges. I noticed that several people were shooting me curious glances. Probably wondering what I'm doing here. Well, too bad. Deciding I had to come up with a reason not to eat I calmly turned to the pink haired woman and held out my hand.

"Hi, I'm Astrid." She seemed surprised at first but then she gave me a brilliant smile.

"Wotcher, Astrid. I'm Tonks." I steered the conversation toward something safe, like her hair. We chatted about nothing important for a long time. She tried to subtly steer the conversation towards me a couple of times but I saw what she was doing and tactfully deflected her questions by asking my own. After awhile I actually started to enjoy myself as we argued over the best way to send and defend against different types of curses.

"Nuh-uh, because if you were to miscalculate the spell's strength by even a fraction it would blast through your shield. Remember, Warrington's shield forms a bubble around you, so the strength you put into it is thinned out in order to encompass your entire body. Perhaps if you sharpened the wrist movement you could bring it in close to you, minimizing the space between you and it. That way it would be stronger than if you were to just perform it how it's normally taught. But still…" My head tilted to the side as I considered.

"I understand what your saying, but this other shield doesn't sound any better." Tonks was impressed with my adeptness. Most people were. Dueling spells had become a hobby of mine. I suspected I'd work for the American Ministry in the Criminals Department. Tonks was an auror, a kind of cop, for the ministry here in England.

I ignored my stomach, which must have a thousand protesters parading around in it. I still hadn't touched my food and was waiting patiently to be excused so I could dig through my trunk for some good ol' junk food. Molly hadn't noticed my 'lack of appetite' because I kept stashing bits and pieces into my napkin; I hadn't started off with a lot anyway.

"I think you can run up stairs and eat something now. I'll cover for you." Tonks whispered quietly, having seen the disgruntled glances I kept sending my plate. I gave her a grateful look before thanking Molly and wishing everyone a good night. The Army, as I was beginning to think of the Weasley kids, seemed putout. The twins were clearly frustrated. To them I was a new recruit who had been evading the initiation ceremony. I was a green horn who was causing a disruption in this tight-nit veteran army.

I was pushing in my chair when I saw The Army each gesture or exchange significant looks. Suspecting foul play I ran for the stairs the second I'd reached the stone steps. I heard Tonks laugh and I knew the others had given chase. I'd just reached the hallway when I heard two _cracks_. Without hesitating I dove under the staircase, crouching low in the shadows. I slowed my breathing until my chest was barely moving.

"Where'd she go?"

"Must be faster than we thought."

"She did out run Buckbeak."

"True." Another crack ended the conversation. I guessed they'd apparated upstairs. I stayed put, I didn't want to run into the other Weasleys who were only now coming down the hallway.

"Smart girl."

"Think she might out fox Fred and George?"

"No. She's not that perceptive. You'd have to be a regular Mad Eye with all the paranoia you'd experience."

"Bill, Charlie! I cannot believe you are sanctioning this kind of behavior. The girl just arrived and no doubt she's under a lot of stress with the move and then the Death Eater activity." I recognized Hermione's 'I know best' tone.

"Ah, come on Hermione. It's a family thing. If she wants to be a part of this family—"

"If she wants to be apart of your family, Ronald, after the way you've been treating her I'll be very surprised." Hermione sniffed.

"Leave them alone, Hermione. I'm sure she can take care of herself. Besides it's not like they're going to hurt her." A quiet voice said firmly. I guessed it to be the Potter boy's.

The voices soon faded as they made their way upstairs. I heard Ginny arguing with someone so I could be sure that the entire Army was gone. Slowly I leaned out from under the stairs. Detecting no other movement I snuck back down into the kitchen.

"Back again I see." Remus was smiling at me from his spot at the virtually empty table. I glared at him. I was so hungry. Looking over my shoulder to make sure the Army wasn't coming, I stole over to Molly and asked for some untainted food to go.

"Can't hide from them forever girl." I stiffened as I recognized the gruff voice of the grizzled, peg legged man.

"So observant. Must have been at the top of your class." I retorted mockingly. Tonks snorted into her napkin and I smirked. I thanked a disgruntled Molly and left with my food.

As I left the kitchen I debated where I could eat my dinner; my room was not an option. The house had become a battlefield and I was out numbered. I crept back under the stairs and ate while I planned. I needed supplies but where to get them? A wicked grin slowly spread across my face as I began to plan. Yes, oh yes. All the children could play this game, only I intended to win.

It was around four in the morning before I managed to crawl back into bed. I'd stayed up all night with Tonks, having recruited her after much persuasion. We'd managed to locate most of the charms and other tricks The Army had left behind. In fact, I'd salvaged whatever I could for later use. We might have gotten the bulk of them but I suspected that there were more. I smiled in satisfaction when I thought of how the twins and the other troopers would find themselves in the morning. It was going to be a great day.

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**A/N:**

**Eh. I know I haven't given much detail as to what Astrid really looks like; be patient.**

**Pensive, the author.**


	6. The Customer is Always Right

"**If God loves you, why did he let you leave the house looking like that?" –bumper sticker**

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**Chapter 6**

Furious banging on my door woke me. I was startled for a moment and was nearly out of bed before I remembered last night. I smiled happily and snuggled deeper under the covers. I hadn't been able to doge all their pranks, but they weren't long-lived. Those two really were underrated geniuses. I raised bleary eyes to check the time.

8:37 A.M

I groaned and rolled over.

The next time I awoke it was a little after noon. I turned over and blinked to clear my eyes. I was so comfortable here. The bed was warm and not so soft that it was uncomfortable. My blankets had that clean crisp smell that clothes fresh out of the dryer have. I sighed and thought about getting up but decided against it. It was nice to just lie here and think.

What was I going to do? I felt alone. I didn't have anyone left. My mom was dead, my dad was dead...everyone else was a million miles away. I knew the Weasleys were nice people; they were really caught up in this war. They had people to save, Death Eaters to kill. I was a liability. They didn't know me, why should they trust a strange girl like me? I hadn't done anything that proved me trustworthy. I could walk out of this house right now and be the little bird that tells Voldemort what he needs to know.

Tonks had briefly told me about Voldemort and that messy, black haired kid Harry Potter. I'd heard about him in school; it was weird. I mean I'd seen him last night when he tried to rescue me from that rampaging hippogriff but it was a little unreal.

The Order of the Phoenix was a kind of rebel group who warred against Voldemort and his followers, called Death Eaters, with little help from the Ministry of Magic. She had also filled me in on Harry's life. It was intense. I couldn't even comprehend facing the most powerful Dark Lord five times by the time I'd turned sixteen and live to tell the tale. To have experienced what he did and still manage to keep a positive outlook on life was admirable; however, I didn't hold him in awe, he'd simply earned my respect. I knew kids who had lived fates worse than death. They might not have influenced the world or made the history books but they were heroes to me. To have the strength of mind to keep and have hope when all seemed lost...I don't know if I had that kind of will power. I liked to think I did.

I sighed and decided it was time to take my shower.

Maybe I should try being nicer, more open...I dunno. Molly tried to get me to open up to her, to talk to her. Hermione did too. I just, well—I didn't like talking about my life. I liked my privacy and respected those who could take care of themselves and didn't need their hand held. I'm not a very loving person. I wasn't brought up that way.

I'm not going to comfort someone and pat him or her on the back when that person screws up. I'll tell the bawling individual to shut the hell up and learn from it.

I was about ready to gear up when I happened to catch my reflection in the mirror. I gasped and did the classical double take. My skin was bright blue and my short brown-black hair was now a deep red that stuck up all over the place.

I looked like an over grown pixie with my naturally high cheekbones and slightly pointed ears. All I was missing were the wings. As if to mime my thoughts I caught sight two nearly translucent things that protruded from my back.

"What in the world? How–?" I spun around and spotted my conditioner and body soap.

My wings beat feverishly as I let out a frustrated scream. I plopped back down on my bed and took deep breaths as I tried to regain my composure. I sat there for a good ten minutes before I actually began to calm down. I sighed and went to inspect my appearance in the mirror. My teeth glowed a faint bluish color and I scowled. I snatched up my toothpaste and inspected it carefully.

"Bastards! This isn't my toothpaste." I threw it down and crossed my arms. I looked like a giant fairy!

Thanks to a magical operation almost two years ago I even had the sharpened canines, though I don't remember much about the whole procedure. An old friend had talked me into doing it, which at the time hadn't been hard to do. My dad had been livid when I'd come home that day. Later I'd decided that it'd been a stupid idea, but I hadn't known where to go to fix it. The school nurse had tried several times before giving up. She had managed to shorten them a little but they were still unusually sharp and a bit longer than was normal.

I'd gotten used to the odd looks and hesitant questions. The girls at school used to say I was half vampire. The Weasleys had yet to notice it since I never smiled with my teeth.

"Stupid choices you can't fix." I muttered, bracing my hands on the counter as I examined my hair.

I'd gotten a funky looking tattoo that wound up my calf, another excursion from that year. I had no idea what it was. It made me dizzy if I looked at it for too long. It's some kind of twisted rope made out of runes. It had been done by some half-crazed witch with one tooth.

I'd told her to give me something dark, not caring what she gave me.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

I hadn't watched her and I should have. She'd used some weird method that had burned like hell. I actually passed out from the pain. It had felt like the crusty hag-born strumpet had used a fire poker to do it. That part of my leg felt...different now. My friends had seemed awed by it. I hated it.

I glared at my reflection. I consider myself to be rather plain, at least from the way guys ran from me. Bridget had once told me it was my smart mouth and intense distrust of men. She'd said that I could thank my father for that.

_Whatever_.

I peered into the mirror again, taking a closer look at my reflection. Yes, all my scars were still there. My body looked like a war zone, the result of years spent interacting with animals. White scare tissue from numerous disagreements with Mother Nature's mobile children decorated my arms, legs, shoulders, and more. I had lotions that helped heal the scars, making them less viable.

All I needed was a sword or a battle axe of some sort and the transformation would be complete.

I smiled slightly at my reflection. Those twins were something else to have come up with this. I hadn't even thought of checking my bathing products.

I rocked my head side to side, thinking. I might as well play the part of a big blue bug since that's what I looked like. I knelt in front of my trunk and dug through my clothes compartment. I had an old Halloween outfit that might do the trick.

* * *

"It's almost two! When d'you think she'll come down?" Ginny asked her brothers.

"Dunno. Might stay up there all day."

"That's asking for too much, Fred. Best not get our hopes up."

The twins had woken up this morning with purple feathers implanted in their hair and couldn't seem to stop itching. They also couldn't pull of their underwear from where it rested on their heads, making it seem as if they had red and purple pigtails.

Bill and Charlie had been soaked with ice-cold water this morning. Ginny's hair was standing on end like she'd been electrocuted and Ron had MORON written across his forehead in large black letters that wouldn't come off. All in all, the troops were not in the best of moods. They'd been waiting for Astrid to come down all morning so they could be turned back to normal.

They'd gotten no sympathy from their mother or the other order members who'd come into contact with the twin's pranks. Hermione had shook her head and told them they should have expected as much. Harry had grinned and took a picture. After hearing Harry laugh no one had really been angry. They all knew that lately it was hard to get him to even smile.

"Oh my." Hermione's eyes grew large and she tapped Ron on the shoulder. Harry looked over his shoulder to see what they were staring at.

Astrid had stuck them all as a darkly attractive girl. Nothing special, but whoever was smirking back at their stunned faces was…arresting.

* * *

"Morning my beauties." I drawled lazily as I made my way into the kitchen.

I wondered why none of them laughed. You'd think a big blue insect wearing a Tinker Bell outfit would earn a few laughs. Shrugging, I went over to Molly.

"Anything left?" I asked hopefully. She smiled and handed me a sandwich.

"You look different this morning dear. Don't you think that shirt is a little inappropriate though?" I decided not to take offense, she was a mother after all.

"Nope."

"And Merlin! Where did you get those marks?" Molly exclaimed, horrified.

"Animals don't like me." I said flatly.

I heard Ron grumble something and narrowed my eyes before sitting down next to Ginny. She was blatantly staring as a particularly vicious bite mark on my shoulder.

"Nice hair." I said after a moment, not really bothered by the staring…much.

She stuck out her tongue and turned her attention back to her lunch.

"Have a nice shower this morning?" The twins tried to look smug but didn't quite succeed. They were squirming in their seats and their whitey-tighties were still on their heads. I grinned, showing off my blue teeth.

"Yes I did. How about you two?" I directed my attention to Bill and Charlie who had been given directions to stay behind today. Unbeknownst to me, they were to escort their mum to Diagon Alley.

"Hah-hah, very funny Astrid." Bill said sarcastically.

My only response was to take a bite of the sandwich Molly had given me.

"How do you stop this ruddy itching?" One of the twins burst out suddenly. I took another bite of my sandwich.

"Please, Astrid?" Ginny asked, widening her eyes and moistening them. She looked absolutely ridiculous.

I gave her a disgusted look and turned back to my lunch.

"Come on, we'll call it a truce." The twins must have been very irritated indeed to give up so easily.

I'd gotten the impression that they were hard nuts to crack. _Must be the itching powder._

"Fine. Ron, to get that off you have to say: I will not smack my lips or chew with my mouth open. Say it seven times."

I turned my head and looked at Ginny. "Drink a couple glasses of water. Fred, George, I believe the counter curse for yours is more physical. It's a dance called The Hokey Pokey." I watched their jaws drop in dismay.

"Oh, also." I paused to relish their horrified expressions. "The important part isn't the words, it's the moves. You must act it out, you two, if you want the underwear to come off. The itching powder is popular with American kids. It's an improvement on the muggle kind. You'll have to bath in tomato juice. I've found a muggle drink called V8 works best." I grinned wolfishly.

"She's mad, barking mad." Ron said.

"Act it out? I've never even heard of it!"

"Bath in tomato juice?"

Ginny didn't have any trouble downing a couple glasses of water. I saw a flash and noticed that the Potter boy had a camera in his hands. Ginny's hair fell down and I heard her sigh in relief.

"Well, it seems Ginny here is the only one who doesn't look like a moron anymore." I soon heard Ron faintly promising to eat civilly.

I snickered. He gave me a murderous glare and grumbled something unintelligible as his mother bustled off to retrieve something from the pantry. I laughed at him and put my plate in the sink. The twins cornered me and demanded that I teach them the Hokey Pokey. I smirked and told them to turn me back to normal.

"We can't. It's a prototype—"

"That's supposed to fade after a few hours."

"So we would change you back—"

"But we can't."

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you. You'll just have to find someone else." I told them firmly. Molly had returned from the pantry, a disapproving frown still on her face.

"Whenever you're ready, Mum." Bill said, stretching in his chair.

"Alright. Might as well, seeing as they're all up and have eaten." Molly tossed down a rag and put one hand on her hip and shook the other at us menacingly.

"I want you all to behave your selves! No more of this horseplay, at least while I'm gone. Is that clear?" The Army looked ready to revolt against their general. Even so, they grudgingly nodded their heads. They were sending poisonous looks at me.

"Yes, Mum. Yes, Mrs. Weasley." They chorused.

"Where are you going?" If she was going to get out of this house I was coming along.

"To Diagon Alley. Fred and George have to leave because of their shop, but the rest of you are staying here." She looked loath to admit that Fred and George could leave and glared at the rest of us.

I considered being left behind with the others and found I didn't like the idea at all. I wanted to get out of this house and maybe see some of the city.

"I want to go." I stood and walked over to her. She shook her head.

"No, I'm sorry my dear. Dumbledore's orders." I shrugged that off. I knew that name held a lot of power around here, but that wouldn't stop me from getting some fresh air!

"I'm coming with you, Molly. No one knows who I am and they'd be hard pressed to recognize me anyway seeing as I'm now a giant blue bug." I said persuasively. Maybe if I gave her a title. She was nice...

"I've never been to Diagon Alley before. Please, Aunt Molly, let me come with you. Bill and Charlie, not to mention the regular cops patrolling the area, can keep us safe. If anything I should go while the rest of you stay here! They know to look for you and it's easy to spot you with that hair." I didn't widen my eyes or stick out my lip because I had a feeling that wouldn't work. Instead I kept a clear face and a soft, persuasive tone.

"Let me come with you, just this once." I could see she was considering it, to my delight and the Army's amazement. Her eyes had lighted up at being called aunt.

"Well…" I saw something in her eyes shift and knew she was still going to say no.

"If Dumbledore gives me permission can I go?" I asked quickly. This seemed to do the trick.

"Oh, alright. But he's a very busy man so I doubt you'll get a chance to ask him."

"Thanks Aunt Molly!" I said hugging her. My wings beat excitedly.

I noticed that Ron was about to say something and I gave him a warning look. He glared at me but snapped his mouth shut. I didn't want anyone to give Molly a reason to not let me go. The last thing I needed was for everyone else protest and demand to come along.

Hermione was frowning at me and Ginny slouched down in her chair. Ron was still giving me an ugly look but nevertheless kept his mouth shut. I had a feeling they were reflecting back on my pranks.

"Who says I have to ask him in person? Can't I just send him a letter by owl?"

"Yes, you could do that too. Now, does anyone have any requests? I have all your school letters right here." She passed out some think creamy envelopes with emerald green writing on them. I recognized them as letters from Hogwarts like the one I'd received earlier this summer.

"Also, you three; you too my dear," Molly said looking at me, "you're O.W.L.'s scores have been included." Hermione let out an excited squeal and dove for her letter. Ron gazed as his apprehensively. The Potter boy seemed to have lost himself in his thoughts. He did a lot of that I noticed. From what Tonks said it seemed he had a lot of guilt riding on his shoulders.

An indignant sound from Hermione drew my attention.

"I can't believe them! Look at my Astronomy score. They should have taken certain events into consideration!"

"But Hermione, you got an O in Arithmancy, History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures—" Ron had snatched her scores from her and was giving her an incredulous look.

"Yes, but that's not the point, Ron!"

"You got twelve O.W.L.'s. How can you be upset with your Astronomy score?"

"Well what did you get?" She grabbed Ron's paper and I saw her face brighten considerably. "This is brilliant, Ron. Really! Eight O.W.L.'s, what did you get Harry?"

"Same as Ron." He said, handing her his paper. I watched her twitter over them for a couple more minutes before quietly grabbing my own letter and heading up to my room.

"What did you get?" Ginny asked me, rolling her eyes as Ron's ears turned red under Hermione's praises.

I gave her a polite smile and shrugged.

"Oh, well, alright then. See you." She said, her smile faltering.

I nodded and left. Watching those three together had reminded me of home—everyone I'd left in America that I probably wouldn't see for some time. It was very expensive to buy a portkey that would take me home. The American Ministry had grudgingly paid the fee for me to come here seeing as it was the law that I had too. Not to mention that I'd told that stupid idiot that I was certainly not paying for something I didn't want to do.

"Great. Homesickness. Just perfect." I shut the door behind me and sat on the floor.

I sat there thinking about my friends and how excited they would be over their test results. I imagined them squealing in delight, calling me up, sending an owl, even traveling by the floo network.

"This sucks." I sighed and opened my letter, remembering how Ron had almost ripped his in half. My eyes scanned the note and then became wide in surprise.

"Merlin!" I checked again to make sure it was right.

**Classes**

**Theory**

**Practical**

**Charms**

**O"**

**O"**

**Herbology**

**E**

**E**

**Magical Animal Care**

**A**

**D**

**The Dark Arts**

**O"**

**O"**

**Transfiguration**

**O"**

**O"**

**Astronomy**

**A**

**A**

**Potions**

**O"**

**O"**

**History of Magic**

**A**

**A**

**Arithmancy**

**A**

**A**

**Ancient Runes**

**E**

**E**

"Grading is as follows…blah, blah, blah…Aha!" I scanned the sheet and the mark beside the grade apparently indicated an honorary mark.

I scowled at my Magical Animal Care score. According the grading scale, that score didn't qualify as an O.W.L.

Animals hate me, I don't know why. Ever since I was a little girl I've had to watch my step and make sure I wasn't going to get eaten by the neighbor's dog or get rabies from a stray cat. The more disconcerting ones were covered up with Concealment Potions.

I scanned the rest of the letter and grinned. My honorary marks had made up for my lesser scores, totaling my points to equal ten O.W.L.'s.

I smiled broadly and let out a little whoop before putting the letter on my night stand. I decided I had better send an owl to that Dumbledore guy. I scribbled out a quick note and promptly realized that I didn't have and owl. Nonplused, I opened my door and whistled. I might not be able to sing but I did pride myself on my mimicry. Birdcalls were easy to copy and were one of the few animals that liked or at least tolerated me.

A little gray tennis ball came hurtling towards my head. I gently snatched it from the air and cooed to it. I coaxed it to accept the note before sending it off.

I waited in my room for a reply, leaving the door open just in case. I didn't have a window to let the bird in through. I sat down on the floor again and stared around my room. My gaze settled on the bookshelves and I remembered the books Roy and his wife had given me before I'd left.

"Lets see." I lugged all them off the shelf where I'd left them. I hadn't really paid them any attention, leaving them for later inspection. There were eight total in the stack. I ran my fingers over the covers, patting the dust from some of them. My eyebrows rose in astonishment as I read the titles.

"Where did she get these?" I glanced sharply at my door and decided that leaving it open wasn't such a good idea. Coming back from shutting the door, I picked up my books and tossed them on the bed. I placed them so I could read their tittles, if they had any.

**_To become an Animagus by Lynn Crowe_**, **_The_ _Darkest Arts_**, **_Secrets of the Mind_**, and the small leather backed volume I'd found behind the other books I'd snatched off the shelf were lying in front of me. The last one Bridget had given me didn't have a title.

I flipped open the other book, looking for a title page or a table of contents. I smiled softly as I began to read a note Bridget must have wrote in before I left.

_**Hello Astrid,**_

_**I suppose you're wondering where I got all these books, or why I gave them to you. Well, fact of the matter is that they were your mothers. She and I were good friends and she often came by to pick up a book or two, much like you. I've had these for a long time and with you moving away I decided it was time they were returned. You'll always be able to call on Roy and I if you ever need anything. You were the granddaughter we never had and we couldn't be prouder of you. You do look so much like your mother, though she was never so saucy. Well, I'd best be off.**_

_**Your loving Grandmother,**_

_**Bridget**_

I laughed weakly as I read the letter. It sounded so much like Bridget it seemed she was in the room with me and not a whole ocean away. I'd known them for so long. I remember their excitement when I'd first walked into their little bookstore to buy my schoolbooks. They really had treated me like I was family. Dad didn't talk about mom. He'd shut up like a clam every time I asked. I guessed it was painful for him. The only time we ever spoke was when he was ordering me around like some worthless house elf, or arguing. We had not been a happy family.

"Well. That was touching." I sniffed and flipped through the book.

I frowned. All the pages were blank. I flipped back to the front. Slowly, I turned the first page, then the second. There, on the bottom left hand corner there was a faint scribble that I couldn't quite make out.

I leaned closer to the book, my nose almost touching. "Guh-heem-seet…what?" I tried to sound the word out a couple more times before finally giving up.

"Huh." I shrugged and tossed it back on the bed.

I browsed through the other books. They were all really old and the authors were unknown on a couple of them. The most surprising thing was that all of them were handwritten. I propped open **_Dropped Your Wand?_** and began to read. I soon found myself gaping. It was a guide on wandless magic!

I inhaled sharply as I read the introduction. Apparently not everyone could perform magic without the aid of a wand. Some wizards and witches could do little things like opening doors and the like, but usually you could or you couldn't.

A tapping on the door startled me. I jumped off the bed and threw a blanket over the books. I looked around to make sure nothing was amiss. I knew that if someone found me with the book on how to perform dark magic I'd be burnt toast. I straightened my clothes before opening the door. I opened my mouth in greeting but instead got a face full of small owl.

"Yuck, bleh!" I spat out feathers and wiped my mouth, glaring daggers at the energetic owl. It was twittering and flying in a circle at breakneck speed, tremendously pleased with itself.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just give me the letter." It dove at me.

Growling, I managed to capture it in a choke hold while I quickly untied the letter. It peeped excitedly while I wrestled with its feet.

"There." I tossed the note on the floor and walked back to the door, keeping my hold on the bird. I hurled it down the stairs, chuckling as feathers flew everywhere. It chattered happily and flew around in a whirling circle down the stairs.

"Hey!" I looked down and saw three sets of eyes.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione had been climbing the stairs. Ron's face was turning red, like his ears. I had to act quickly before he blew his top. Still a little sore over the moron incident evidently, totally understandable.

"I didn't hurt the little monster. He'll be fine Ron. Here, watch." I whistled to it and a few seconds later it came flying around the corner. I ducked in time and it went tumbling into my room.

"See? Still works. A little crazy, but there you go. By the way, thanks for letting me use it." I ducked again as if flew towards Ron. He caught it and held it to his chest protectively. I pulled a face at his dramatized action.

"I didn't give you permission to use my owl, and from the way you treat it I'm not bloody likely to—" He began.

What did the boy want from me? I certainly wasn't going to coddle him like the rest did whenever his feathers got ruffled. I wasn't his mother—hell, I wasn't even his friend. I'd thought I'd gone out of my way as it was just by answering him. I had kept my tone, civil and even a little cheery. Narrowing my eyes at him, I dropped all pretenses of being even remotely nice.

"Get a life Ron. I simply called and your bouncing sugar ball answered. Whatever." I went back inside and slammed the door.

I wasn't used to dealing with so many people. I was an only child for crying out loud! Now all of a sudden I had six cousins and an aunt who I'd never met before in my life.

I stopped suddenly, surprised at myself. _I'm calling her aunt now?_

I thought about Molly for a moment and decided I kind of liked the idea of calling her that. It made me feel closer to her and for the first time since meeting her, I didn't mind it.

Ron's face disrupted my thoughts and I scowled. How was I supposed to deal with this? _Like you deal with everything else_, I told myself. _You cope_.

I nodded absently to myself. I'd just have to deal with it. But how? I was quick to snap at somebody and long to forgive. I couldn't change just to make them happier! No, but it would make things easier if I could calm down a bit and be more...tolerant. Especially where that impulsive, ham-fisted, moron was concerned.

Sighing wearily, I picked up the note and scanned it. It was from Dumbledore saying I could accompany Mrs. Weasley to Diagon Alley as long as I took the "proper precautions".

"Okay then." I rubbed my nose and opened my trunk. I found my purse and pulled out some cash. I didn't expect Molly to buy my things, that wasn't her job. Besides, they looked a little short on money. There was only one reason I worked during the holidays, and that was for spending money.

"I'll have to stop by Gringotts." I shoved the money in a small wallet and went to pull on a jacket.

"Aw, shit." It wasn't gonna happen. My wings prevented me from wearing anything remotely warm.

I'd just have to ask Molly to place a Warmth Charm on me. I thought for a moment and wondered if she'd even allow me out of the house. I glanced in the mirror and tried to think of possible solutions.

I was wearing a modest enough skirt. I mean the slit up the side was a bit risqué, but so what.

"Nah, if it was allowed at school there shouldn't be a problem." I grabbed some socks that were high enough to hide that cursed tattoo and pulled on some waterproof combat boots. I'd heard London weather was cold at the best of times.

I debated on leaving my wand behind but decided against it. While it might be illegal to use magic, there was no telling when some sort of emergency came up. Number one rule in all magical defense books: never go anywhere with out your wand. With that in mind, I thumped down to the kitchen.

"Let's go." I showedMolly the note.

"Very well. I want the rest of you to clean the dinning room. It's becoming too crowded in here. Ginny, go tell your brother. I love you all. Be good." She pointed sternly at the twins who were busy waggling their arms and feet.

They'd evidently found someone to teach them the Hokey Pokey.

"You put your left hand in and_ you shake it all about_…" They looked like they were enjoying themselves actually. Fred rolled his eyes as George happily and enthusiastically started in on the right leg.

I followed Molly into the hallway, Bill leading and Charlie trailing behind.

"I tried to put on a jacket but nothing else will fit with these wings. I'm glad I had this backless thing or I probably be stuck in my room all day." I hadn't realized that till I said it. Yes, the twins certainly deserved the itching powder.

"Would you mind putting a Warmth Charm on me?"

"Yes, that's fine dear. Charlie?" Charlie nodded and tapped his wand on my head. I immediately felt warmer. This house was cold!

"Good. Now, Astrid, put this on." Molly handed me a piece of string with what looked like a paper clip on it.

"That's an emergency portkey. If anything happens all you have to do is grab this. The word is Pigwigeon." I looked at her curiously.

"We had to think of a word that's usually not said in normal conversation. Ron's bird was the best we could come up with." Bill said.

"Oh." I pulled it over my head.

"Yes, and you must stay close. I don't want you wandering off. Under no circumstances are you to leave my side." I tried not to roll my eyes. Did I look like I wanted to be murdered?

"Now, we wait for Tonks to give the signal." A couple minutes went by.

"There it went." I hadn't heard or seen anything. I looked around.

"Another of Fred and George's inventions." Charlie supplied.

"Ah." I said following them out the door.

A small old lady walking a poodle passed us. She had short curly blue hair and was wearing a trench coat. Something about her seemed familiar. I watched her closely as she passed. She turned towards me and I smiled.

"Tonks?" I hissed quietly. I remember her telling me about her unusual ability last night. Metamorphmagi could change their appearance at will; they were really rare.

Tonks pretended not to recognize me and gave me a suspicious look. "No, I'm sorry, deary. You must have mistaken me for someone else."

"Come along, now." Molly said, leading me away from Tonks and toward a black car.

I shrugged and eased myself into the back seat, careful not to crush my wings. I looked out the window with wide eyes as we drove; it was certainly gloomy and overcast. I really liked the buildings though. I wished I'd brought my camera along. The others laughed at me but I ignored them. A man I hadn't seen before was driving the car. It was weird driving on the other side of the rode, it felt wrong and backwards.

After a while we stopped in front of a shabby looking pub. I followed them inside and out to the back. I was looking over my shoulder at some toothless hags when I bumped into someone as I was walking out.

"Sorry." I said. A handsome guy with a shy smile caught my arm to keep me from falling.

"No problem." I grinned as he walked away, winking at him when looked back. He turned bright red and quickly turned away, embarrassed to be caught looking. I smirked. Charlie scowled at him.

"Keep your eyes in your head. You have to be more careful. Did he plant anything?"

_Yeah right._

"It'd be hard to plant anything in here besides what all ready in it." I said bluntly.

"Just stop drooling, cousin, and keep walking. I don't want to have to tell Mum. She might decide you need to hear the Talk. Trust me that is something best avoided."

"Oh please. I've already taken a sex education class, thank you very much. " I said before turning my attention to whatever Bill was doing. He was prodding a stonewall. I was about to ask what the hold up was when the brick wall moved.

It began to shift, the bricks folding away to from an opening that soon grew into a large archway. I was impressed. Behind it wove a cobbled street filled with all sorts of people. I received just as many curious looks as I was giving others. Molly grabbed my arm to make sure I didn't wander off. It was nice, this place. The stores were interesting and filled with all sorts of curious items.

What I really liked was that all this stuff was in one place. In America everything was scattered about to throw off the muggles.

"I asked Dumbledore to send the school list with your O.W.L.'s because I knew it would be safer to get those things now than later." Molly pulled out a list and directed us over to a store called Flourish and Blotts. It was a huge bookstore, ten times larger than Roy's little shop.

"I brought my own money with me, Aunt Molly. Don't feel obligated to buy me anything."

"That isn't necessary dear—"

"I insist. The only thing I have to do is run by Gringotts to exchange my money."

"Very well. Perhaps we can stay here while Bill takes care of that for you."

I shrugged and handed Bill the cash I'd stuffed into my boot.

"Alright, I'll be right back." He disappeared with a crack.

"Here, dear. This is your school list. I'll be over there." She pointed to the used book section. I perked up at that.

"I'll go with you. I like a good bargain. Why pay more for a new one when you can get the same thing for a better price?" I said, a little perplexed. She'd seemed a little ashamed. I must have imagined it because she laughed and grabbed me around the shoulders in a hug.

"Hey, hey! Watch the wings."

"Sorry, dear. Now let's see." We hunted and searched for all the books, exploring the shelves and small discount racks. After Molly grabbed Ron and Ginny's books she went over and gathered up Harry's and Hermione's along with whatever books they'd requested.

"What classes did you decide to take?" Bill asked after he'd returned from Gringotts with her exchanged money.

"I dunno."

"Well, you do know that you only buy the books for what classes you decide to take, right?"

"Sure." I scratched my head. What classes did I want to take?

"In sixth year you're pretty much deciding where you want to go in life. You'll be studying for the N.E.W.T.'s that you'll take seventh year. Didn't you talk to anyone about a career?"

"Not really." I had an idea of what I wanted to be but… "What do you do?"

"I'm a Curse Breaker for Gringotts. Charlie there works with dragons in Romania. Dad works for the Ministry, Fred and George beat their own path and started a joke shop."

"I think I'd like to do whatever Tonks does. No, I'm positive that's what I'll do." I said, tapping my chin.

"Become an Auror? Well, you'll need top marks for that." He seemed to hesitate. "Like an O in Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Which I have." I said arrogantly. I was proud of my grades and couldn't help feeling a little smug.

"Right. Well then you should get these books here." He pointed to some books on my list. I gave him an incredulous look.

"That's it? Those are all the books I'll need?"

"Yep."

I was silent for a moment. "But—I—are you sure? Because I've already read those ones and I'm sure they're somewhere in my trunk...alright, I guess I'll just browse." I walked off feeling a little disappointed.

I couldn't believe those were the only books I would need for class. I knew I didn't need to review any of the books either. I have a knack for magic. It comes easily. The teachers at the Salem Institute used to say that such talent was being wasted on someone with such a disagreeable disposition. Apparently I was ill-tempered, disrespectful, and academically lazy. I smirked. My O.W.L. scores seemed to suggest otherwise.

Immensely satisfied with this revelation, I decided to buy some more books. I don't consider myself a bookworm, I just like to know how to do things so I never have to ask.

Taking my time, I dug through the cauldrons filled with musty textbooks and old paperbacks. I picked out a couple slim volumes that looked interesting. One had an interesting snake skin design of the cover while the other was simply added on impulse. Who ever said you couldn't judge a book by its cover? Not me.

I gave my things to the clerk so I could join Molly at the door.

"I'm sorry, only _wizards_ are allowed to purchase spell books. Please leave; you're preventing customers from making their purchases."

"Pardon?" What was he, some kind of sexist pig?

"I will have to alert security if you do not leave now. It's a direct violation of Ministry law for us to allow you to leave here with these books." The clerk was maybe a little younger than Charlie and had a pompous air about him.

"I don't think you understand. You _will_ allow me to purchase those books or I will personally ensure that you no longer have a job here. _Do_ I make myself clear?" I snarled.

"You are in no position to threaten—"

"Damn right I am! Where's the manager?"

"I am the manager!"

"Fine then! Just get me someone who can fire your dumb ass!"

"JERRY! I have a situation here—"

"Situation! I'll give you a situation!" Lucky for him Charlie restrained me.

A good thirty minutes went by before I was allow to leave with my books, free of charge, which I scathingly informed them was the least they could do. I hadn't forgotten that I looked like a giant blue fairy, I just wasn't aware how convincing mycostumewas. In the end, it had all been a misunderstanding.

Though I couldn't resist the urge to remind him that by law this book store should have a detection spell placed upon it that would alert the employees if a non-wizard or witch tried to purchase a spell book of any kind. Roy had mentioned such a thing to me once.

"Stupid British snob. Can't tell the difference between a witch and a fairy. See if I ever come here again." I tossed over my shoulder.

I continued to blacken his name further as we finished the rest of our shopping. I bought some plain black school robes off the half off rack and then left. I made Charlie pay whenever it was time to leave. I didn't want to go through the same thing twice.

We were walking down the street when I caught sight of the Magical Menagerie. I debated if there was any point in trying to find something that wouldn't bite my hand off. I decided there was.

Despite my intense dislike for animals, a small childish part of me refused to admit defeat. One of these days I'd find a pet that wouldn't hate me.

"Aunt Molly?"

"Hmm?"

"Can we stop by the Magical Menagerie, please?"

"Well, let me see. Bill, what time is it? Oh, all right. That's fine as long as you're quick about it. Your choices are a cat, a rat, or a toad. Anything else will have to be run by the Headmaster."

I went inside with Charlie while Molly waited outside with Bill.

A witch was sitting behind the counter, muttering and scratching herself as she glared at a dull looking bird that seemed very pleased with its self.

"Welcome to the Magical Menagerie. Can I 'elp you?" She asked, still glaring at the bird.

"Uh, yeah. I'm looking for a pet that I can take to Hogwarts. I was thinking about some kind of feline." I informed the frumpy little witch.

I figured I could use the school owls if I needed one and rats were nasty creatures; toads were useless and tacky. I vaguely remembered a bandy legged cat with a squashed face running loose back at Number 12 and hoped the two cats would get along.

"Right then, this way." She clamored between cages and cages of all different sorts of squeaking, screeching, spitting, and cursing animals. I stared as one particularly nasty bird covered in grime gave me the finger as I squeezed by.

"'Ere we are. There are all kinds o' cats in this area. Just holler if y'need anything." She left muttering about what she'd like do to a certain bird when she got back.

"Thanks." I took off down the row with Charlie, peeking into jars, boxes, and cages as I went. I had to back up or stand up quickly a few times to avoid injury.

There were color-changing kittens, barking cats, cats that shrank and grew, singing cats, and more. I was backing away from a Cheshire cat that looked a lot like the cat off Alice and Wonderland, when I heard a pitiful meow behind me that caught my attention. Inside a wooden box on the highest shelf—naturally—I could just glimpse a tuft of silky black fur.

"Charlie, what do think's in that one?" He stood up from where he'd been examining a fire breathing feline. I'd totally bypassed _that _row.

"Dunno. Why don't you ask."

"Hello, ma'am? MA'AM? I would like to know what's in this small crate here!" I yelled over all the noise the animals were making. I waited a couple seconds before trying again.

"I hear ya, I hear ya!" The frumpy little witch had arrived. She stood back, looking doubtfully up at the box.

"I don't think you want _'im_ Miss. He's not a very, ah, pleasant thing."

"So? I didn't ask you if it was nice. I said I wanted to see it." I raised my eyebrows expectantly. I was still a little touchy after the bookstore. This clerk was a lot smarter than that last one. She knew that the customer was always right.

"Right you are then, Miss. I'll just carry him to the front for ya then." The witch spelled it down and then trotted off, Charlie and I trailing behind.

"Here we are." She placed the crate on the counter top and rapped on it five times. The crate slowly expanded until it was large enough to where I could see through the planks of wood.

"Oh, he's beautiful." I breathed. The little witch looked at me as if I were crazy.

"I thought he was mangy myself. What with all that fur sticking out in all directions, some of it shorter in some places and just missing in other areas? Not pretty. Look here; he's missing his left eye. I don't even remember why I took him in in the first place! When I tried to fix him up 'e about took my 'ead off he did!" She proclaimed dramatically.

Frankly, I thought the woman needed to see and eye doctor. The cat was perfectly healthy. He wasn't ugly at all. He had gorgeous, glossy blue-black fur that looked as fine and soft as baby hair. I reached out tentatively and rubbed his head. No, it wasn't as soft as baby hair; it was much softer.

Intelligent, dark blue eyes surveyed me. I felt as if he were the one making the purchase, not I. He was the size of a regular house cat, but by the looks of him, he could probably eat a house cat. He looked like a small baby jaguar with those sharp claws and talk about fangs! However, all this was nothing compared to his wings. They were stunningly bright white wings that were generously proportioned.

"Charlie, do you think he can fly?" I asked, completely taken. My own temporary wings fluttered excitedly.

"Err…"

The witch laughed. "You must have hit your 'ead this morning, Miss. This hideous thing doesn't have any wings, o' course 'e can't fly."

I was becoming extremely irritated with her frequent interruptions. "How much?"

"I don't know about this, Astrid. Maybe we should ask Mum." Charlie said uncertainly. I shushed him and waved him to be quiet when he opened his mouth again.

The witch sighed. "He's right miss. I shouldn't have let you see 'im in the first place. Now off with ya, I'd better stop you while you're ahead."

"How much?" I repeated, more firmly this time. I was not leaving this store without him.

"Ten galleons." She said smugly. "No one in their right mind would pay so much for that dirty thing. Now, I think you should listen to your friend here, Miss. Where's your mum?" She asked, looking around.

"She's dead." I said shortly. "Five galleons and you've got a deal."

"Fine. But don't you come back 'ere complain' about 'im! It'll be your own fault when 'e tries to take a bite outta ya!" With that she scooped of the money and shooed us out of the store, waving her hands.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Sorry for the atrocious accent, I tried.**

**Sighing resignedly, the author.**


	7. His Most Royal Self

"**It's amazing that the amount of news that happens in the world every day always just exactly fits the news paper." -Jerry Seinfeld**

* * *

**Chapter 7 **

Back at Number Twelve a small group of order members had gathered together early for a meeting that was to take place later in the evening.

"Arthur, what is the Ministry doing about this?" Lupin was examining the **_Daily Prophet_**, which was resting on the scratched wooden table that rested in the stonewalled kitchen. The fire was blazing, yet they all felt as if cold ghostly fingers were tracing up and down their spines.

"As much as they can. After Fudge was demoted they've been trying to clean up his mess. I just hope this campaign business is over with soon." Arthur sighed.

They all gazed down at the huge picture plastered on the front page. It was a moving black and white photo of demolished manor house that had been set ablaze. The dark mark floated malevolently above it. Voldemort's insignia consisted of a skull with a large serpent protruding from the mouth like a tongue.

"I don't know how long this protection Dumbledore's been talking about will last or even work. He keeps insisting that it will, but fear is spreading. Families have started to move away from the area. Voldemort will have soon killed hundreds at the rate the Ministry's going. Hundreds. That's not including all these muggle deaths." Lupin sat back in his chair, leaning his head against the wall.

"They're supposed to have a new minister by Monday. Fudge is out of there for good." Tonks said.

"Here they come." Moody growled. His magical eye seemed to follow something as it moved on the floor above them. Arthur shoved the paper under his chair.

Harry, Ron, and the twins, accompanied by Ginny, strode through the door, all of them laughing merrily.

"That was brilliant!" Ron grinned broadly at Harry as they sat down in some empty chairs.

"Have the others come back yet?" Arthur asked, checking his watch.

"No. Evil, conniving chit. I'll bet five galleons she's put in Slytherin." Ron grumbled.

"No respect for authority. Arthur you'll need to teach that girl some manners before it's too late. Beat them into her if you have to."

"Oh, come off it Mad Eye. You had it coming from the way you jumped all over her like that." Tonks twirled a strand of curly blue hair around her finger.

"I'm really sorry about that. I'd forgotten those rooms were connected." Hermione said bashfully.

"I still don't think she should be trusted with any information. We don't know anything about her other than what her Ministry sent us. Which is next to nothing." Moody's eye whirled into the back of his head and gradually rested on the spot where the main entrance was.

"There they are. What is that?" Moody scowled fiercely, transforming his face into a fearsome mask. The room tensed.

"What's wrong?" Lupin was heading for the door before Moody spoke again.

"The stupid girl bought a pet. How do we know it's not a Death Eater? We need to keep her from bringing that thing into the house, quick!"

* * *

"No, he's not dying, he's perfectly fine! Aunt Molly, please. I think there's some kind of allusion on him." I'd been arguing with my aunt for the past forty-five minutes. Bill and Charlie had tactfully avoided commenting. 

"Astrid that thing is ugly, dirty and vicious. He is not coming into the house!" Molly yelled. We were standing on the sidewalk while the boys gathered up the heavier purchases.

"You're not bringing that creature into the house. I'm sorry, but no and that's final.

"Fine!" I spat, starting down the street.

If he wasn't allowed in, I wasn't coming in. I'd find a hotel to sleep in tonight and look for a job in the morning. They could owl my things to me. My wings were beating so hard that I could hear a faint hum. I heard Bill and Charlie call out to me. I ignored them and kept walking. I didn't get any further before someone roughly grabbed me by the shoulder. I immediately turned my head and bit down hard on their fingers after a hard jerk didn't loosen his hold.

"AHH! Blimey woman!" He screamed.

The thing in my arms growled menacingly at whoever had grabbed me. He jumped out of my arms and landed in front of me, tail lashing.

"Back away from it, Dung! Don't touch her!" Remus, Arthur, Tonks, and the freaky guy with the eye had burst out of the house.

"Get away from it Astrid! It could be a Death Eater!" Not knowing what Remus was frantically shouting about I spun around. A tall black man with a large gold earring in one ear was approaching me with his wand out; I didn't stop to think.

I flung myself side ways into an alley and rolled to my feet, leaping over garbage cans, dodging spooked cats and ducking behind old crates. My shopping bag banged hard against my side as I sprinted away. I zigzagged, making sure he didn't have a clear shot at me. They only thing I had going for me was how fast I could move on my feet. I nearly ran into a couple of unsuspecting muggles as I tore around a corner.

"Watch out! Sorry!" I yelled, shoving them aside. I hoped they had enough sense to stay down. I crouched down behind a dumpster in a dark alley off the one I'd just come from. These streets were like one giant rat maze! Feeling relatively secure in the fact that I'd lost him I let myself catch my breath.

A deep rattling noise came from somewhere near my feet. I briefly patted myself on the back for deciding on wearing the combat boots. Rubbing up against my leg was that absolutely gorgeous cat I'd bought from that wretched woman.

I went to pick him up but he turned those eyes on me and moved away.

"Where ya goin' little fella? Come back here. Hey!" He'd padded down the wet, foul smelling alleyway. He turned back to look at me.

"Merrow." He continued on down, stopping every now and then to look back at me. I got the message.

"Might as well. Lead the way then." He came back to rub against me. I sighed and wrapped my arms around my middle, adjusting the awkward shopping bag that I'd somehow managed not to drop. We walked for a long time.

It was getting dark before we finally stopped. The warmth charm had faded away a long time ago and I knew my wings were limp and shriveled from the cold. The street lamps had come on an hour after I'd ran from the Death Eater. It'd been around seven when I'd started following the black cat. London summers were a lot darker and colder than summers in Oregon. It was July for Pete's sake! I wouldn't turn seventeen for another thirty-three days. August thirty-first was a horrible birthday. It was the day right before this new school started.

"Merrow?" I looked around and saw that black cat had led me to a familiar looking door. I opened it and found myself in that old, murky pub I'd come through earlier to reach Diagon Alley.

"Good evening. Can I help you?" Asked a friendly witch with long brown braids. She was balancing a tray on her hip as she collected glasses and plates from a nearby table.

"Yes, a room for the night please." I said quietly. I followed her up to the counter.

"Name?"

"Gingersnap." I said.

"Ginger Snap? Huh, that's a new one."

I gave her a tight smile. I hadn't meant to say that. My stomach growled, telling me it was way past time to eat. I paid for a room for the night and took the offered key. She directed me to my room and asked if I'd like anything to be sent up.

"Yes, a sandwich and a glass of water please." She nodded and went to help some other customers. If the Weasleys came looking for me I wouldn't be hard to find. A big blue fairy with an American accent? Oh, yeah I saw her…

Ten minutes later I climbed up the stairs and looked for room number one-fourteen, wolfing down what was left of my sandwich. I walked a little farther down the way and sure enough there it was, fifth door on the left.

"I guess we'll camp here for tonight black cat." I opened the door and wrinkled my nose. At least it had a window, I thought. It wasn't that bad, considering the price. My opinion of the room improved when I saw the huge comforter on the bed.

"It could be worse. We could have no blankets." I locked the door and washed my face in the small sink. I sunk down into a nearby chair and sighed. My feet were sore I leaned down to unlace my shoes and noticed the dirt caked up the backs of my legs from running.

"Gross." I thought for a second and grabbed my bag. Inside I had two robes and the books I'd bought earlier. I debated with my self before settling on a quick scrub.

By the time I was done scrubbing I was beat. I glanced blearily into the mirror and grunted. I was no longer blue. I fell into bed and pulled the comforter over my head. I was so tired. I'd worry about what to do in the morning. I barely registered black cat coming to snuggle by my side before dropping off to sleep.

* * *

"Merrow. Merrrow. Meerrrrooww." 

"Ugh, no. Go away." I moaned.

"Merrow!" I felt sharp claws kneed into my back.

"Ah! Okay, I'm up. You win, happy now?" I stretched and rolled out of bed. I stumbled over to the sink and splashed some water on my face. Rubbing my eyes I squinted at my watch.

"What time is it?" I yawned. 7:12 A.M. My eyes felt puffy from sleep and my mouth tasted awful.

"I need a tooth brush. No, scratch that. I need coffee." I itched my head. My hair was chin length and moderately tame, but that didn't stop it from frizzing out. I had a big dent in the side from where I'd been laying on the pillow. I smiled lazily. I looked like some mad scientist.

"Merrow."

I grunted again and closed the door to the bathroom, taking my bag with me. Twenty minutes later I came out looking much better. I'd put some water in my hair so it'd calm down and thrown on one of my school robes.

"Alright. Lets go." I shoved my cash into my pocket and left everything else on the bed.

I tromped downstairs and took a seat at a booth. Black cat jumped up next to me. I scanned the menu in front of me and was appalled.

"Excuse me, Miss?" A different witch than the one I'd talked to the other night came over to me.

"Yes?"

"Can I have a cup of coffee and a plate of chicken for my cat here?"

"I'm not sure about the coffee, but I'll ask Tom." She said before leaving.

"Great. I hope they have coffee here. I thought I was going to die when all I saw was tea and whatever the others were." I looked over at black cat and frowned.

"We need to come up with a name for you cat." I slouched down in my seat and rubbed his head.

"What do you think about Blackie?" He sneezed.

"Okay how about Simon?" He lifted his nose in the air.

"Nope. Umm, Prince?" I asked jokingly. He purred.

"You've got to be kidding me." More purring.

"Silly cat." I scratched him under his chin. He made a swipe at my hand, instigating a wrestling match with my robe sleeves.

"Here you are then, one cup of coffee and a plate of chicken from last night. I hope that's alright?"

"Perfect, thank you."

"Just give Tom this before you leave. You can pay at the register." I nodded and drank my coffee. It wasn't horrible, but it wasn't good either. I sat there for a while, thinking. I could leave and go explore Diagon Alley, but then I wouldn't know if anyone showed up looking for me. Besides, Molly would probably go ballistic on me if she found out I'd gone out without an escort.

"No adventures today cat. We gonna kick it old school and hang. That cool with chew?" His Lordship cocked his furry little face to the side. I ruffled his fur, earning me a swat. He was sensitive about his hair I noticed.

"I'll give you the four-one-one on up in our new crib. You dig?" I smirked. I'd always hated how muggle boys talked sometimes. You couldn't understand a word they said. I sighed and pushed my half full mug away.

"Come on cat. I'll tell you what. Let's just run up stairs and grab our stuff. That way we can be ready to go if anyone shows up."

After having drunk my coffee I felt better. I always tried to avoid caffeine highs because I hated that low point afterwards, so I tried to drink half or less. It'd worked for me so far.

We moseyed on up and I straightened the bed. Making sure I had everything I went downstairs and turned in my key, signing out. My spot had been taken while I was up so picked another that would give me a good view of the people coming and going. Fortunately someone had just vacated their seat by the fire. I settled down, setting my bag close to me so it wouldn't get nicked. Prince curled up in my lap as if it belonged to him.

"Oof. Careful there cat. You're not exactly a box of feathers." My only responses was a slight twitch of his ears.

"Spoilt lump." I muttered. I pulled out the book I'd picked up on a whim yesterday. I opened it and was amused to see that it was a little charm book. I skimmed through it and smiled faintly. It seemed to be an odd collection of spells ranging from household charms to fairly easy transfiguration spells.

"Where were you when I had that zit on picture day?" I looked up from time to time, checking to make sure someone I knew didn't miss me on the way out. It was around eleven when I finished the book. My stomach roused me and I decided it was time to eat something.

"Alright cat. Move. Come on now. Up. Hey, what d'ya got there?" His Lordship had started to tug at something around my neck. It was a piece of string with a paper clip hanging on it. I've never felt so stupid in my life. Without much thought I pulled on it.

"Pigwigeon." The all too familiar feelings of a portkey swamped me. My stomach dropped and jumped as I was whooshed away.

I grunted, it was way to early for a roller coaster ride. Thankfully the distance was shorter so my landing was less violent. That doesn't mean landing smartly on my rearis a pleasant experience.

"Ugh!" I'd fallen on the stone floor of the kitchen. I looked up and saw a number of startled faces leaning over the table. Quite a few of them had their wands out.

"I've come in peace." I said raising my hands. I examined the area around me for a second. My bag had split open and my books, robe, and wand had tumbled out. His Lordship was sitting in my lap, scowling at me. Some feathers in his wings were sticking out at odd angles.

"So cute." I said ruffling his hair some more. He ducked and gave me a reproachful look. I chuckled and looked up to see several redheads blinking at me.

"Astrid! MUM! ASTRID'S BACK! WE'RE IN THE KITCHEN!" Ginny had hopped up and was bellowing up the stairs. I winced as I slowly got to my feet, rubbing my back.

"Where've you been?"

"Mum's been going nutters—"

"We thought you might have—"

"Why'd you run off?"

"A Death Eater could have—"

"You're in so much trouble!"

"Hey, you're not blue?"

"When did it wear off?"

"Where's that monster you bought?"

"Moody said it might be a Death Eater—"

"An animagus trying to sneak in—"

"ASTRID!" The Army's questions were drowned out as Molly swooped down on me in a bone-crushing hug. Over her head I saw my uncle and other adults flooding into the kitchen.

"Let go—please!" I gasped. Molly complied and held me at arm's length. Where previously her face had been one of motherly concern and worry it was now a furious mask.

"WHAT _WERE_ YOU THINKING YOUNG LADY, RUNNING OFF LIKE THAT? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED! YOU COULD HAVE _DIED_!" I flinched at her shrill voice. I tried to speak but she shook an angry finger at me, gesturing as she let me have it.

"BEEN UP ALL NIGHT—NOT KNOWING IF YOU WERE SAFE—EVERYONE LOOKING—HOW COULD YOU DO THIS—HAD A PORTKEY—NO EXCUSE—WAITED TILL NOW TO COME BACK—GROUNDED FOR THE REST OF THE SUMMER—!" I tuned her out soon after hearing my punishment, which I'd been patiently waiting for. I wondered how closely my dad was related to the Weasleys. We didn't have the same surname, but talk about lung power! I let her get a few more sentences in before cutting her off.

"It certainly wasn't my fault! Remus said something about a Death Eater and I turned around and there was this huge wizard with his wand out coming straight at me. What was I supposed—"

"That was an ORDER member! You should have at LEAST come back to the house after the fact! It was EXTREMELY irresponsible of you to keep us up ALL NIGHT looking for you!" I could tell she'd been really worried but the yelling was starting to get to me. I tried not to raise my voice but I lost control. The anger in her voice made me nervous, guilty; it made me feel like I'd done her a grievous wrong an was now considered an enemy. I couldn't let her believe that; I wasn't guilty. It soon became a real shouting match with everyone else not sure what to do.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! I'M SORRY, BUT I'M NOT PERFECT! IT'S NOT LIKE I WENT AND TALKED TO VOLDEMORT! DON'T YELL AT ME WHEN I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING!" I slammed the table with my fists. My face was hot and I was trying to suppress my anger.

"IF YOU WOULD HAVE LISTENED TO ME IN THE FIRST PLACE AND GOTTEN RID OF THE CAT--IT'S ALL THAT WRETCHED ANIMALS FAULT!"

"LEAVE MY CAT OUT OF THIS! HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY YOU CAN KEEP AN ANIMAL LIKE A _HIPPOGRIFF_ IN THE HOUSE, AND NOT MY CAT!"

"THAT'S NOT A CAT! THAT _THING_ IS A DISGRACE! IT'S NOT MY FAULT—"

"WELL IT SURE AS HELL AIN'T MINE EITHER!"

"Ladies, please!" A tall elderly man with twinkling eyes and a silvery white beard was standing inside the doorway. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Why did she have to be so difficult? I saw a chair and wished it were closer. I looked away to stare over the old guy before feeling someone slid the chair behind me.

"Thanks." I said tiredly. I didn't look around to see who did it. I just wanted to sit down for a minute and relax.

"Now, I do think this kitchen is becoming quite crowded with so many people. Perhaps we should all settle into the upstairs drawing room…?" He inquired gently. Everyone began filtering out of the kitchen and up the stairs into a room off the hall that I recognized. It was the one with moss-green carpet, high ceiling, and olive-green walls.

His Most-Royal-Self padded next to me. I've got to pick a name for him, I thought. I can't keep calling him cat and Prince was definitely not an option. I threw my stuff, which I'd quickly wrapped up in my spare robe, near an armchair. A stern looking witch with her hair gathered up into a tight bun transfigured a writing desk into a long table that easily took up a good majority of the room. Others were conjuring chairs, or summoning them from downstairs.

"So. This is the silly little twit who've we've been searching for?" A tall, gaunt, greasy haired man asked nastily. I ignored him, staring fixedly at Dumbledore. He was obviously the one in charge of everything; thus the only one I was worried about pleasing.

"Everyone, this is Miss Vanderhorn. She will be starting her sixth year at Hogwarts this year. Her father passed away last June. I'm sorry for your loss. Many good men and women have been lost to us recently and I have no doubt there will be more before this war is over." Dumbledore said sadly.

_Aren't you just a bright little ray of sunshine_, I thought sarcastically.

"Now, I think the issue here Miss Vanderhorn," I glanced away from Dumbledore to survey the room. A rosy-cheeked witch was looking hard at me and talking quickly to the stern witch. I spotted the tall black wizard from earlier and my eyebrows shot up.

"Yes, I see you've meet Kingsley Shacklebolt, an Auror who works for the Ministry of Magic. He and several others are members of a group I'm sure Nymphadora," Dumbledore inclined his head toward Tonks who grimaced and scowled at Dumbledore. "Tonks informed you about."

I was surprised to see a number of disapproving looks directed at her from the others in the room. They evidently thought I shouldn't to know what The Order of the Phoenix was or who was in it. Yes, I was the unknown element, not to be trusted.

"Where's the animal? Dumbledore, we shouldn't—"

"I am quite aware of what is safe Alastor. Minerva, if you would please."

The stern witch approached my chair slowly; she was still peering at me intently over her spectacles but she soon directed her gaze to the winged creature who was hiding behind my legs. It hissed quietly, swiping at her before backing up slowly and rubbing it's nose against me. I felt oddly protective of it and went to gather it up in my arms. A firm hand on my shoulder stopped me. Arthur shook his head and gave me a reassuring pat. I frowned and turned back to the woman.

She looked closely at the kitten for few seconds and with a faint pop a tabby cat with spectacle markings around its eyes was where the witch had been.

The tabby began circling the now uncertain kitten. The tabby got a little too close and the kitten flapped its wings nervously, it turned those dark blue eyes on me. Intelligence lurked there, but he now seemed a little frightened.

Where was the spitfire I'd seen take on Kingsley earlier? This Royal stuff was going strait to his head.

"All right that's enough, you're scaring him." Not listening, the professor cornered Prince, causing him to meow piteously.

"I said _stop_." My voice was like ice as I glared down at the tabby. I picked up His Lordship, keeping a careful eye on the transformed professor. I pulled him against me and kissed the top of his head. He purred and hid his face in my robe. He was more like a little kid than a kitten; he was heavy enough!

I saw one of the male wizards roll his eyes and mutter something about 'women and small animals'. I gave him a look that did not thank him for the comment.

"Albus, that's not a cat." Minerva said. She was back to normal and had pulled out her wand. The other Order members followed suit and drew their wands. I set Prince down in my seat and stood. I was furious.

"What in the hell do you obscene clay-brained eunuches think your doing? Of course he's not a normal cat. He has wings doesn't he?"

"Wings, Miss Vanderhorn?" Dumbledore asked, his tone light and curious.

"Yeah." I was sure of it now; there was some sort of allusion charm on the cat.

"Would you care to describe what you see for us?"

I described Prince and saw looks of dawning comprehension on a few faces. Others seemed perplexed.

"Merlin's beard. It can't be." A small wizard whispered. "Dark creatures, very dark. Demonic like. I thought they'd all died out. How did this slip of a girl get her hands on one?"

Where did this guy get off calling me small? I was five foot eight and probably weighed twice as much as he did. He reminded me of a shaved bird, practically nothing but skin and bone.

"My cat is not evil!"

"Miss Vanderhorn, you will speak only when spoken to." The greasy haired man said sneeringly.

"Who died and made you dictator?" I snapped. I was becoming increasingly agitated with all their suspicious looks. These zealots were going to take my cat away. I hadn't had a pet since I was nine but spiders don't really count. By the time I wasold enough to want a petI was lucky if I could toucha dog before it snapped at me. Insects and plants were a lot more tolerante.

"Miss Vanderhorn, as your Headmaster I feel an obligation to inform you that both Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall are professors at Hogwarts." His eyes were twinkling merrily as he said this.

"Good thing it's summer then." I retorted, refusing to back down.

"I suppose you teach…potions? And maybe transfiguration?" The woman gave me an appraising look before nodding. The hook nosed fellow with the amazingly greasy hair narrowed his eyes at me.

"How d'you know?" Tonks asked. She seemed impressed. I smirked at her.

They were educated guesses really. Leaning over a cauldron all day _would_ give you greasy hair. He was pale enough that it was likely he worked inside all day hovering over bubbling cauldrons. The woman had transfigured this huge table out of a puny writing desk; the fact she could transfigure herself into a tabby cat gave it away though.

"I was going to make you guess. Well?" She said impatiently. Imerely shrugged.

Tonks groaned dramatically. "Ron's right, you are evil."

I clicked my teeth together, bitting the air. She started, for the first time noticing that I had pointed canines. I noticed her alarm and closed my mouth immediately.I hated it when Icaught people staring atmy teeth. It made me uncomfortable.

Her offhand comment about me being evil ignited something amongst the Order members. I heard the bony little wizard talking.

"Catergys. Their called catergyses." The other wizards and witches had caught on by now and they were eyeing my warily.

"She's holding a catergys?"

"Only the darkest of witches and wizards could even approach..."

"Dark, evil things…"

"I've heard stories that would make your toes curl…" The wizards and witches around the room had broken into frenzied conversations by now and were talking animatedly amongst themselves.

"…Put it out of its misery…"

"We should have her questioned...We don't have any reason to believe she's not a practitioner..."

"…Be easier for everyone if someone just killed it…"

"Only a dark witch would be able to…"

"…Definitely dark magic. Wouldn't surprise me. Has a shifty look about her…"

I scowled darkly at heatedly conversing adults. These fanatics were so immersed in their own vision of what was right and what was wrong, that they failed to accept anything else. You were either with them all the way or not at all. I was astounded at their narrow mindedness. The world was not black and white, no one person was ever completely correct. I was the gray one here, the unknown element that had just showed signs of being evil. In there eyes that was evidence enough that I was somehow connected to the dark arts and in turn connected to Voldemort.

I snorted in disbelief. At almost seventeen, I knew I had more wisdom in my big toe than this lot put together. It was pathetic to see them pull out all these 'facts' they suddenly knew about me out of their asses. I heard someone claim they'd seen me rubbing my left arm. I laughed openly at that one, my expression scornful as I yanked up the sleeve of my robe. Bare skin met their eyes.

My potions professor was watching me carefully, along with an austere, regal witch wearing a green shawl. I shook my head, utterly disgusted with what was supposed to be Britain's only hope, the Dark Lord's supposed conquerors.

Before I could open my mouth and tell these bumbling idiots exactly what I thought of them, Molly shooed all of us out of the room as it became increasingly taunt with distrust. Dumbledore was calmly addressing everyone in the room as we left. Several looks of distaste followed me out. The Army had followed me out and I saw their unsure expressions and even a distrustful one from Ron.

I hurried upstairs. No one called out to stop me. I clenched my jaw, my anger vying with a frustrated helplessness. When I reached my room I shut the door quietly behind me and walked over to my bed. I wasn't evil, was I? I touched my teeth. They weren't real fangs. I set the big kitten on my pillows. It was biting its tongue as it slept. I smoothed its hair and gave it a small smile.

Maybe they were right. Maybe I was an untrustworthy, evil. Dad had said as much when he got riled up. I felt something digging into my side and sat up. I remembered my books and panicked for a moment. If the Dark Arts book was found in my possession…I went to the door and bolted it shut. I turned up the gas lamps that provided light for the room and went back to the bed, throwingback the blanket; the books were right where I'd left them.

"I don't think going down stairs is a good idea. I'm hungry." I walked over to the trunk and unlocked one of the compartments. I hadn't brought much but some of my friends had given my tins of cookies and the like. I pulled out one of these and crawled back onto the bed, hoping to take my mind off of the recent turn of events.

"I only have a few weeks to finish these. Better get crackin'."

* * *

**(A/N)**

OMG I've been up all night. Hope schools going well for all y'all

Tired, the author


	8. The Beginning of an End

"**It is not righteousness to outrage a brave man dead, not even though you hate him." -Sophocles**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

For the next few weeks I barely left my room. I'd show up at dinner and breakfast to appease my aunt, but after that I'd go back upstairs. I either skipped lunch or brought it up to my room. No one really seemed to care. I didn't talk to my cousins much. After that night they became more distant and quiet around me. A small part of me was saddened by this, but I didn't let it bother me. If they were too stupid to see past the rumors and the lies then I didn't want anything to do with them.

Molly was different. She had talked to me a couple times about the catergys, admitting that she still didn't want it in the house. She told me to keep my chin up and not to let the other's despicable behavior get to me. I thanked her for her concern and told her what she needed to hear: I was great. I hadn't paid any attention to what they'd said. No, I was just staying busy. I was preparing for school. Lunch was fabulous, thank you.

Ron was the worst of them all; he seemed to agree with the majority of the Order members that came and went. He'd cast little snide remarks at me when ever I saw him and make a point of whispering darkly to his friends. As far as the adults were concerned I was under a kind of house arrest. When I'd come down for a change of scenery I got nothing but suspicious glances and half muttered threats. Most would stop talking when I entered a room and trade furtive looks when I bent down to pet my new companion.

I did make an appearance at Harry's birthday party in July though it'd been short lived. I stuck my head in, made the proper congratulations, talked to Tonks and Molly for a while then headed back upstairs. It was nice to have someone to talk to. Tonks sometimes visited me upstairs; I didn't mind her sporadic interruptions. I knew she'd probably been sent to check on me, but I found I didn't mind. In fact, I looked forward to them after a while. I didn't make friends easily and I was glad to have one. Molly was truly stepping in and I liked her mothering. She seemed to have adopted me. Tonks gradually became like an older sister to me with all her bits of advice about school and just life in general.

It was sometime in August when she walked in on me reading from one of my mother's books.

I was sitting cross-legged on the floor reading the last few pages of the book on animagi when she opened my door.

"Wotcher!" She called happily, swearing as she tripped over her own feet.

Prince, he wouldn't answer to anything without some sort of noble title to my disgust, hissed at her. He was lying on the bed and had been watching me with avid curiosity as I read to him. I was never really lonely with that little monster around. He listened when I talked to him and kept me company. I really liked having him around and found it comforting to be able to pet him without fear of being maimed. He also kept me from dwelling on how drastically my life at Number Twelve had changed.

"T-tonks. What are you doing back so early? I thought you were on duty until five." I scrambled to my feet and discreetly covered the books Bridget had given me with the blanket I'd tossed on the floor. I obviously wasn't fast enough because she closed the door behind her and promptly marched over and pulled back the blanket.

"Astrid, what is all this? **_The Darkest Arts, Secrets of the Mind_**…These are…where did you get these? If anyone found you with these...You know Molly, Dumbledore and I are the only reason your memory hasn't been erased, don't you? We had to convince everyone that it was better to have you under our nose where we could watch you than kicking you out and directly into You-Know-Who's hands."

I brushed back my hair, much longer than it had been when I first arrived at the Weasleys. I'd wanted to please Aunt Molly and when she'd suggested it I'd grudgingly complied.

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask to come here in the first place. I was forced to. I'd be more than happy to leave this hell-hole."

"It's not all that bad." She said, frowning. I snorted.

"Do you know how nerve wracking it is to live with a bunch of zealots who might turn their wand on me at any moment? I haven't harmed one hair on their light-be-blessed heads and yet they believe I am the enemy. And do you know why, Tonks? Do you?

"It's because they're afraid. They are afraid and need someone they can hate and blame for all their problems, not a Dark Lord millions of miles away that they can't see. They need someone they can reach. That's why they are so eager to pronounce me guilt of practicing the dark arts." I finished angrily, pounding my fist into the rug.

Tonks sighed heavily and sat down next to me. We didn't talk for a few moments.

"What about these books though? I'll have to tell Dumbledore." She said finally.

"I know. In reality though, only the dark arts book is worthy of being reported on. The others are common enough besides this one." I help up **_Dropped Your Wand?_**.

"Someone would give their right arm and probably a whole lot more for this. It's an introduction to unaided magic. It's all theory really, but enough is there to paint a very pretty picture." I said, handing her the book. Her face was scrunched up in concentration as she scanned the first few pages.

"Amazing, truly amazing. Where did you find this?" She asked, not looking up.

"A bookshop back home."

"Let me see the others." She flipped through them slowly, whistling appreciatively. "Impressive. Very detailed and no doubt worth a fortune. This one will have to go though." She said as she examined **_The_** **_Darkest Arts._**

"Fine. Let the old man know I wont use anything thing I've learned from it." She gave me a sharp look.

"You—do you understand it?" Her face was incredulous.

"Yeah. I finished it a few days ago. I only have a couple books left to read. Why?"

"Normally only those who have practiced dark magic, or have been taught how to recognized it like I have…you shouldn't be able to understand this. It should be like trying to understand gibberish. You should be able to read it but it should be nearly impossible to comprehend. Do you understand?" I nodded my head slowly.

"I should be able to read it but not understand how it's done, correct?"

"Exactly! That you do…" She trailed off and I could knew she was thinking about what would happen to me if the other Order members caught me with this book.

"You can tell them I learned it at school. Our Dark Arts teacher was a bit of a wacko." Tonks pursed her lips, none too taken with the idea.

"I would never use any of those on the undeserving, Tonks. And I did in fact learn about the dark arts in school." _Liar_, my self-conscious hissed. I shrugged it off. No one needed to know that I'd never been taught anything even remotely similar to the things mentioned in that book. It made me uneasy, knowing that I had accomplished by myself what normally needed to be painstakingly taught to others. I certainly did have a knack for magic, I thought bitterly.

Tonks looked relieved for the most part, but stayed silent as she traced some runes that had been carved into the spine of **_The Darkest Arts_** book.

"You're a smart girl, Astrid. I know you're aware of the consequences if anyone should ever discover you have practiced the dark arts." She gave me a meaningful look.

"I have never preformed any spell such as the ones in that book, ever."

"Good, lets keep it that way. I'll drop by later to tell you what Dumbledore said." She grabbed up the book and left, tripping on the rug on the way out the door.

"There is no such thing as privacy around here, is there?" Prince didn't answer.

* * *

"Hello, Miss Vanderhorn. I trust Tonks told you what this meeting is about?"

Tonks had dropped by earlier to inform me Dumbledore was going to stop by my room later to discuss things. Things as in what I'd learnt from reading all those books.

"Yep." I sat at the foot of my bed, petting His Majesty. Dumbledore took a seat I'd had Tonks transfigure for the occasion.

"Excellent. Care for a lemon drop?" He extended a small dish he'd pulled out from the pockets of his robes.

"No, thanks." I said, putting up a hand. Never except candy from strangers, or old wizards. He picked one out and popped it in his mouth.

"I have been informed that you have in your possession four very valuable books, one of which is now resting in my office." He said, folding his hands together in his lap.

"They were my mothers." I offered.

"Ah. Would you mind if I had a look at them?" I reached behind me and leaned forward, handing him the three musty volumes. He examined them for a while, occasionally nodding or furrowing his brow. I watched him curiously, wondering if I should ask him a few questions of my own.

"You are very fortunate. I know only too many wizards who would pay you handsomely for these. I'm sorry I had to confiscate the other. I will return it to you when I know it will not fall into Voldemort's hands. I know for a fact that several of those spells were lost hundreds of years ago. The Ministry itself would confiscate that book from you, never to be returned."

I listened to him closely, surprised at his willingness to simply keep the book for me. I'd figured he'd take it and never give it back. I was not oblivious to the book's worth.

"I haven't seen such detailed accounts of how to become an animagus or of the basic Occlumency (magic that covered the magical defense of the mind) skills in many years. I wonder if you would be willing to loan Mr. Potter this one here." He gestured to **_Secrets of the Mind_**, the book on Occlumency.

"Hmm. I suppose that's the same as loaning it to all three of them." His eyes twinkled at this and he nodded slightly. I considered this, frowning at the thought of Ron burning it just to spite me.

"I will make sure to place a protective ward on it to keep it safe should it be damaged." He offered, no doubt reading my mind. I smirked at him and deliberately set up my mind shield.

After a moment of intense silence he raised an eye brow in surprise. "Out of all my students, you are the first to have shields strong enough to keep me out. Well done, Miss Vanderhorn. I have a feeling that is not all you have learned?"

"Was there anything else you wanted to ask me, Headmaster?" I asked in return. He considered me for a moment before sighing heavily.

"There is still the matter of your catergys to discuss. I'm afraid I cannot safely permit you to bring him with you when you leave for Hogwarts." I stood up swiftly, causing Prince to merrow in surprise.

"And where exactly do you think I'm going to leave him? Here? I don't think so–" Dumbledore raised a hand to still me. I sat back down on my bed, glaring at him. Prince was lashing his tail from where he'd been dumped onto the ground.

"However, I have a devised an alternative for the both of you. It is painfully obvious that you will not be able to leave Prince here and I do not wish to upset you anymore than I know you already are. Tell me, how do you feel about entrusting Prince into the care of our Magical Creature's teacher? I assure you that Professor Hagrid would be more than willing to watch over the catergys. This arrangement would also enable you to visit Prince on a daily basis."

"I suppose." I didn't really have a choice. I scowled at Dumbledore, not liking the arrangement at all.

"In that case, is there anything you wished to ask me?" I opened my mouth to say no and would he please get out of my room, but a thought suddenly occurred to me.

"Headmaster, would it be possible for me to leave the castle on the weekends? I understand there is a town not far from there. I plan on returning to the States once the school year is over. I want to have enough money saved to by a portkey that can take me home and buy and apartment." I paused for a moment and added, "If I decide to stay here I'll still need money to support myself. I will not allow the Weasleys to care for me when I can provide for myself."

Dumbledore considered me over his half moon spectacles.

"That is not an unusual request." He said finally. "Certain rules will have to be enforced, but I see no reason to prevent you from working in Hosmeade. I believe the Three Broomsticks is hiring, if my sources are correct. There are a few other students who have also asked for permission to work in Hogemeade during the weekends. The war has effected many of us and we must make allowances for those who have been affected most." He got slowly to his feet, smiling at me.

"Now, if you would excuse me. I told Molly I would come down and try some of her fabulous dessert. I've heard it is absolutely wonderful. Good night, Miss Vanderhorn."

"Night. Don't let the bed bugs bite." I heard him chuckle as he shut the door.

* * *

The next time I saw Harry, I made sure to give him the Occlumency book.

"If you have any questions I'll be in my room. Dumbledore said to give this to you. It's mine so don't trash it or lose it." He just stared at the book, too surprised to say anything.

Hermione asked me where I'd gotten it and I shrugged. Ron glowered at me from his place at the scuffed kitchen table. Him and Hermione had become pretty close lately. I smirked at him and gave him a look that plainly said, 'keep your hands to yourself'. Ginny laughed and the twins seized the moment to tease 'Ickle Ronniekins'. I took advantage of the distraction and slipped back upstairs before Hermione could question me further. She was always trying to corner me lately and ask probing questions about my life. I did not welcome the attempted breech of privacy, my life was none of her business. It also bothered me how she made a point to be friendly to me in front of everyone, especially Ron. If Ron didn't like me, so what?

Soon after the meeting with Dumbledore I finished reading the book on wandless magic.

It took me awhile to determine whether or not I should chance being expelled by the ministry. I decided that with Voldemort and his Death Eaters on the loose, watching for kids using magic over the summer was the least of their worries. Besides, this house was hidden under the Fidelius Charm (A charm used to hide something or somebody from all people. The secret in question is then concealed inside the soul of the Secret-Keeper, who is the only person who knows the whereabouts of the person or item. The Secret-Keeper is the only person who can reveal the location of the hidden thing to other people.) so it was highly doubtful that the ministry would be able to track any magic I preformed back here to me.

My first attempt at unaided magic was a laugh. I don't know how many hours I sat doing nothing while I concentrated on levitating a pair of socks. When I finally managed to levitate the pair a few inches of the ground Prince jumped up and batted them out of the air, breaking my concentration. No owl arrived from the ministry that evening. I was home free.

I continued to practice wandless magic and found that it was actually very easy. It was strange at first and left me exhausted. The book said it was difficult to use your body to channel magic after becoming so dependent on a wand. However, using a wand would allow you to channel more energy than not using one. There was some major research and theory included after that, but I took the authors word on it and focused on learning the basic rudimentary skills.

Through trial and error, I eventually found the trick to it: you had to want it. It took strong emotions to evoke the magic and an inordinate amount of will to control it. If I wanted the door to close I had to be angry enough to slam it or harness that emotion and ease it shut. Eventually, I could think the incantation or merely the intent and I'd have a flame floating in my palm or weaving between my fingers. It still took concentration, but the emotions didn't have to be as strong like they had been when I began. It became easier and more natural for me to snap my fingers and conjure a flame than to flick my wand and say a spell.

One afternoon, only a day before my seventeenth birthday, I re-discovered the price of opening your heart to somebody. I'd come down to get some lunch only to walk into the middle of a heated argument between Ron, Harry, and the potions professor.

"Yes, and now he's dead because of it." Snape spat from his place near the end of the table.

"You slimy bastard!" Harry shouted, already on his feet.

"Very original." I drawled, making my way towards the counters.

"Stay out of this, you evil hag!" Ron's shout made me pause, still facing the counter.

"When you pass away and people ask me what the cause of your death was, I'll say stupidity." I told him coldly over my shoulder. I grabbed a sandwich left over from lunch and turned around to face him, highly irritated.

"I certainly hope you are sterile." I said, taking a bite out of my sandwich. As expected, his ears turned bright red and he balled his hands into fists. His eyes were screwed up with rage and I thought I saw steam coming out of his ears.

"You should slit your wrists, it will lower your blood pressure." I informed him loftily, taking another bite out of my sandwich and having a seat at the table. A sound on the other side of the door drew my attention and in that moment Ron pounced.

I was knocked out of my seat and sent tumbling to the floor. I used his own momentum against him and managed to throw him off me before scrambling to my feet. He stuck out his hand and pulled me down again. He grabbed my hair and yanked me backwards, sending me crashing into Professor Snape.

I saw a flash of fur dart from behind the kitchen door and felt my stomach drop. With a murderous scream Prince launched himself at Ron, whose eyes widened in surprise.

"WATCH OUT RON!" Harry yelled. Frozen, I watched as Ron was knocked backwards, the bloodthirsty catergys slashing savagely at his chest. I saw my pet bare his fangs and raise his head toward Ron's throat.

"_Accio_!" I said instantly. I held out my hands to catch the ferocious, squirming demon. I stumbled back from the impact and fell to my knees. The professor had pushed me off him and was now leaning over a bloody and moaning lump on the floor.

"RON!" The shriek came from Hermione upon entering the room. I heard several loud _cracks_ as Remus, Tonks, and other Order members apparated into the kitchen.

It was only seconds later that my aunt and uncle showed up, white faced and panting. I saw them clutch at each other when they saw their son. Tonks sprinted to his side and examined the damaged. She had to remove his shirt with a severing charm. I let myself breath a sigh of relief when I saw the damage was not nearly as bad as I'd imagined. There were not fatal wounds of any sort although some were deep; the amount of blood everywhere had magnified the injuries.

From my place on the floor, I saw Ginny speaking to her mother rapidly. Molly's face was pale and I noticed her hands were shaking. She knelt at Ron's side, smoothing back his hair. In one swift motion she was on her feet again, looming over me.

"I believe you've done enough harm for one day. Leave us!" She shouted at me through tears. I froze in shock and confusion.

"GO!" She shoved me towards the door and I stumbled out onto the steps, nearly crushing Prince.

"I knew that thing was evil even before it set foot in this house! I never should have let her come live with us, Arthur, NEVER!" She shouted, her face a mask of tears and rage. I looked up at her and was met with accusing, grief-ridden eyes. The look nailed me where I stood, making something in my chest ache with the pain that look caused me.

"Get out." Molly gritted out into the silence that had followed in the wake of her shout. The Order members behind her cast poisonous looks in my direction. I was still for a moment, paralyzed by the hatred and rejection.

"GET OUT!"

I clenched my jaw hard, making my teeth ache. I left quickly, not wanting her to see me cry.

My head pounded and my eyes burned as tears tried to escape down my face. I wiped them away viciously as I ran up the steps. She didn't deserve my tears. None of them deserved my tears! They weren't _worth_ crying over.

Even as I tried to convince myself that this was true, my heart called me a liar. I'd thought she liked me. I'd come to respect her and value her opinion and she...

I'd tried to help him! After all the time we'd spent together…a small hart-wrenching sob escaped me and I clasped a hand over my mouth. I took a couple deep breaths through my nose, trying to calm down.

I let out a final shaky breath and brushed the hair out of my face as I walked back to my room. I sniffed loudly and wiped my nose on the sleeve of my black shirt. My eyes were puffy and my jaw hurt from clenching it so hard.

I shut my bedroom door quietly behind me and dropped heavily into the armchair left behind from Dumbledore's visit. I ran a hand over my face and sniffed again to clear my nose. Why did Ron have to be so…stupid!

I shouldn't have let myself like her, let her get in under my defenses. I shouldn't have let a woman I've barely known for two months get to me like this! I rose and washed my face in the sink, cupping my hands to catch some of the water. My mouth was strangely dry and I drank some of the water, swishing it around first before spitting it back into the sink.

I would gladly pick up and go back home, but I couldn't. I wasn't seventeen yet and according to the ministry laws that dealt with minors I had to stay with my guardians until I was.

"Aren't you a little old to be a sixth year?" Tonks had asked me once. The answer was no, I wasn't. The Salem Witches Institute in Massachusetts started a month earlier than Hogwarts; school began on the first of August. I'd turned eleven only a few days after the dead line. If only my birthday was a little sooner! I dried my face on my shirt and wiped my hands on my blue jeans as I thought about what to do. There was no way I could face Molly again. The look she'd given me while I stood there outside the kitchen door had nearly ripped my heart out.

"Damn It! I didn't mean for any of this to happen!" I threw a glass I'd kept on my knight stand against the wall and it shattered with a satisfying crash. Perched on the edged of the bed, Prince appeared to raise a black whiskered eyebrow at me.

I sighed and gestured half-heartedly at the mess. The glass re-appeared, whole and unbroken on the floor where it remains had previously lain. I plopped down beside Prince and rested my elbows on my knees, massaging my temples.

I felt drained and sleep sounded real good. I heard someone knock on my door and I glared at it murderously. I did not want company, thank you very much. I gestured sharply with my hands, warding the door with a simple, yet very effective charm I'd learned in my third year.

"There." I rolled over and pulled one of my blankets over me. Prince purred comfortingly and curled up against me. I gave him a light squeeze, trying to imagine how I'd ever managed without his loyal, unwavering presence.

I drifted off to sleep, promising myself that we would leave this hell-hole tomorrow.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Okay, I've made minor adjustments to this chapter--mainlyspelling and sentence structure issues. Enjoy the romantic encounter in the next chapter:)**

**Working on it, the author.**


	9. The Sarlows

**"Yeah, though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil, for I am the meanest son of a bitch in the valley" –Joel Rosenberg**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

It was fifteen minutes past midnight when it happened. I cried out quietly in surprise and gripped the edge of the bed. I sucked in a sharp breath as I tried not to breath, thinking it would lessen the pain. The cramp had manifested in my left leg, jerking me awake.

I rolled around on the bed, releasing the bed frame as I tried to find a position that would help relax the muscles. It felt as though a hand had reached inside my leg and was wrenching and twisting my calf muscles. A particularly painful spasm rocketed through my leg.

"Damn!" I hissed, lurching forward to clutch it. I could feel my muscles trembling and jumping under my fingers. I pressed on it, hoping to message the pain out of it as I worked the area. It worked to some extent.

For what seemed an eternity, I sat there, my body stiffening at every uncontrollable twitch. The muscle spasms eventually faded and I heaved a sigh of relief. I collapsed back on my bed, exhausted. Wondering what time it was I stared blearily at my watch until the numbers where clearly visible.

1:14 AM.

"Damn. That has to be the worst charlie horse…" Still not completely awake, I slowly got up.

Realizing I'd fallen asleep fully dressed, I fumbled with my boots for a moment as I kicked them off, undoing all the buckles. I shrugged out of my cloak and rested for a minute before I wriggled out of my jeans.

Stumbling groggily out of bed, I made my way to the bathroom. A feeling of vertigo seized me as I shut the door behind me. Grabbing the black marble counter I sat down heavily on the closed toilet seat, head in my hands. I sat there for a while, waiting for my head to stop spinning.

When I felt it was safe to stand, I eased back the snake engraved facet. I let the water run until the temperature was near glacial and splashed the water on my face as I attempted to shock myself out of the zombie like state I had entered.

"Damn leg." I grumbled hoarsely, checking my watch again.

1:47 AM.

I caught sight of my reflection and lethargically reached up to finger my hair. Rich dark brown and nearly black, it'd grown long enough to tickle my collarbones. For a split second I considered using a Severing Charm and chopping it all off. When I'd been younger my dad had always kept my hair boyishly short. Bridget had confided in me once that this was due to the remarkable resemblance between my mother and I. Having seen a few pictures of my mother I knew that there was little dissimilarity between us, hair length being the main factor, my height the other.

Even after he'd stopped cutting my hair I'd never let it exceed past my jaw; it had been one of the few things that I'd quietly, without question, done for my father.

"Meerrrroooowww." Prince nudged my left leg and I winced. I was going to feel that in the morning. Limping slightly, I left the bathroom and knelt down in front of my trunk.

"I know I have some of that chocolate in here somewhere." Reaching into the trunk I rummaged around until I came upon a plastic sack full of what I wanted. I took out one of the thin chocolate bars and tore off the wrapper, taking a big bite out of it. Warmth seeped into my limbs, comforting me more than anything.

After tossing the other half of the candy bar back into the bag, I rose gingerly to my feet and shuffled back into bed. Despite the fact that I'd gone to bed several hours earlier than normal, I was dead tired. I felt strained and couldn't shake a nagging feeling of despair from me. Pointedly ignoring the feeling I determinedly closed my eyes, dropping off as soon as I pulled the covers over me.

* * *

_Thump, thump, thump. _A fast, steady pace of thumps beat a fast tempo on the inside of my head. 

"Astrid? Astrid! ASTRID!"

Frowning, I cracked open one eye and yawned. The pounding was coming from outside my room; the noise was giving me a headache.

_What?_

Couldn't Tonks see I was sleeping? I laid there for a few more minutes, arguing with myself. I knew I should get out of bed and answer the door butmy body protested and refused to move.

A fleeting image of a steaming, warm cup of coffee manifested before my eyes and I groaned. I was so warm, so comfortable…I knew that as soon as I was up I'd feel miserable. Why I'd be miserable I didn't really know but as soon as I got up I'd remember.

"Astrid! You've had the world's longest lie in. It's almost ten you lazy sod!" The unmistakable sound of Tonks managing to fall on her face with both feet planted reached my ears. I yawned again before groggily sitting up in bed, my body reluctantly cooperating.

"Hang on a sec!" Untangling myself from the covers, I swung my feet out of bed. Before I'd taken more than two steps towards my trunk I felt my left leg crumbled beneath me. My bottom hit the floor with a _thump_ that fit in nicely with the incessant knocking.

"Ow!" I yelped, scowling at my leg. I touched it gingerly and wrinkled my nose at the soreness. Recalling the massive cramp last night I sighed. My leg would probably be sore all week. Resigned to my fate, I hauled myself back up and pulled on a pair of plaid boxers before letting Tonks in, limping somewhat.

"What?" I growled as a greeting, giving her a sullen look as she bounced into the room.

"Bout time. I've been waiting for you to wake up." Her hair was braided into a thousand thin, vibrant purple stands today and her attire was that of a juvenile teenage witch. I plucked at the corner of her spectacular purple quarter sleeve shirt and smiled wryly.

"Nice." I'd been looking for it a couple days ago and hadn't been able to find it. I normally didn't wear it, in fact the only time I'd worn it had been the day Bridget had given it to me (I thought it was rather flamboyant.) but hey, clean was clean.

"Thanks, I thought so too." She said happily, striking a pose. I snorted and headed back towards the bed.

"Happy birthday." She said unexpectedly after I'd flopped back down on the bed. I blinked at her, my mind gradually registering what she'd just said.

"Thanks." I said finally, letting my surprise creep into my voice; I thought I hadn't told anyone besides Prince. Tonks smiled smugly, sitting on the arm of the chair.

"I took the liberty of looking it up at work." She explained as she reached into her robe pocket and pulled out a relatively battered package, wrapped up in what was unmistakably outdated Daily Prophets.

"Happy birthday, Astrid. Here. I thought you might find this useful." Smiling hesitantly at her, I took the ragged parcel.

"Sorry about that. I was in a hurry and crushed it a little. Tripped over the coat rack." She explained. I chuckled lightly, tearing off the horrified photos of the moving people as they made a run for it. A large picture of a woman was shaking her fist at me, yelling intelligible curses as I tore her in half.

When I realized what she'd given me, I smiled toothily, for once showing my teeth instead of the closed lip smile I always responded with. In my hand was a small, pink journal filled with, of all things, hair and facial spells.

"A beauty book?" I laughed, flipping through it. "Unbelievable. Trying to tell me something, Tonks?" Noticing that the handwriting was drastically different in several places, I asked her who helped her put it together.

"I—Molly and Ginny." She shifted uncertainly in the chair. I stiffened as memories from last night came rushing back and I sighed, shoving an image of an angry Molly out of my head.

_That's why I didn't want to get out of bed._

"It'll be alright. Molly just needs to—cool off." Tonks said carefully. I gave her a flat look.

"Still raving then." I said, running an irritated hand through my hair. Tonks sighed and nodded, scratching the side of her nose.

"Been at it all morning. I didn't want the job but," she sighed heavily, "someone had to tell you. Now that you are seventeen they—they have the right to remove you from their place of residence…" I felt my stomach drop and my face tighten.

Tonks fiddled with the ends of her purple braids, her face scrunched up as if she was concentrating very hard. She didn't have to say it, I knew. They were kicking me out. They weren't even going to let me tell my side of the story.

_ARGH! I hate Ron! I hate stupid people!_ I thought vehemently. I'd given Molly my trust, my respect. I'd liked her and she had abandoned me before I could…

_Do what?_ A nasty little voice asked

_Apologize?_ I shook my head, closing my eyes for a moment It wasn't like I hadn't done without family for the past seventeen years.

Dad, I thought with a slight pang in my chest, never been real big on the whole father-daughter idea. Bridget and Roy weren't…it just wasn't the same. Non of these people were really even related to me. What, I was like the daughter of their second cousin? But then why did it hurt so much?

_Because nobody likes to be rejected_, my mind answered. Because I'd become attached to them during the short time I'd spent here. I smiled ruefully. And now they didn't want me. I was alone. My parents and any close relatives were dead. My mother had passed away the day I was born and Dad…he'd been dead to me long before the accident. I lowered my head to my chest, letting my hair fall into my eyes.

I was the last living Vanderhorn. Realizing this for the first time since Dad's accident I felt…sadder and…lonelier for the thought. I was alone, truly alone.

Feeling like I'd been swallowed by a bottomless gaping hole of misery, I was silent for a long time. Prince eventually sauntered over and folded himself in my lap, his wings fluttering gently as he situated himself. He flexed one of his paws on my leg, hauling me out of my hole. I heard the armchair squeak and remembered Tonks was still around.

"When—" My voice cracked slightly and I cleared my throat. "Should I leave now?"

"When your ready."

I nodded. Now that the Weasleys were staying here, at Number 12, they had the authority to toss me out on my rear. I shook my head. I remember the threats Dad would throw at me about kicking my sorry ass to the curb when I was older.

Wishing I hadn't answered the door, I set Prince next to me and got up. "I'll only be a few minutes if you want to wait outside." When she didn't respond I turned my head and looked over at her.

"I know they'll come around, Astrid. Molly is–she can just be really over protective at times and you haven't...they've only known you for a couple months. This whole thing with You-Know-Who is getting to them, it's getting to everyone." She said quietly.

A hot surge of anger and hurt welled up inside of me at her words.

"So what, that makes it okay?" I shot back, my fists clenched.

"No, I'm just saying that they are under a lot of stress. You-Know-Who has—"

"I'M FED UP WITH ALL THIS DARK LORD SHIT! They can be stressed all they want, but hell will freeze over before I'll let them take it out on me. For these last couple of months I've been treated like absolute _shit_! I'm fed up with all the snide comments, the glances—the attitude they all give me for simply breathing. Where's their proof that I'm a spy, a vampire, a Death Eater? Huh? Where is it? Oh, that's right, THERE ISN'T ANY BECAUSE NONE OF IT'S TURE!" I exploded, mad as hell.

"I could strip naked and put my memories in a pensive and I'd still be suspect. And you know what? I don't care anymore. You're right they don't know me, so where in the hell do they get off saying I'm a servant of the Dark Lord? Do they have ANY idea what it's like to be raised by a man who blames you for his wife's death? I have taken care of myself my whole life! And now, I'm stuck with a bunch of trigger-happy fanatics who point fingers at everyone but themselves." I said, swallowing hard.

The smell of charred wood made me pause. I'd grabbed the bed post sometime during my rant. Starring at it, I pried my fingers from the wood, leaving behind a charred, black imprint of my hand. Ilet out a low laugh that sounded more like a sob. It looked like I'd seized it and tried to crush the life out of it.

Sniffing loudly, I wiped my hand on my shirt and sighed raggedly. Glancing over at Tonks, I brushed my hair back before turning away from her.

"At least Potter has friends. Hell, he might as well change his name to Weasley. " I said listlessly, feeling worn out.

"I know. All's I'm saying is that you should be patient. Don't shut them out of your life just yet. Give them a chance to calm down—"

"Stop. I don't want to talk about this anymore." I said, messaging my temples.

After another moment of silent suffering, I sighed.

"Tonks?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blow up on you like that."

"No problem. That's what _friends _are for."

A ghost of a smile lifted the corner of my mouth when I she put a light stress of friends.

"Oh—here," she said, abruptly changing the subject, "these came for you yesterday after you went to bed. I know they're a little late, but the new Minister of Magic only just agreed to help fund them." I took the envelope from her silently, not looking at her as I tore it open carelessly.

The letter consisted of three separate pieces of parchment, one a list of subjects and the necessary books and equipment. It was from Hogwarts.

"What? I already told…damn. I only owled them my N.E.W.T prep classes which means I still need four more classes." I told her, my voice still subdued. I scanned the introductory letter and read parts of it out loud to myself.

"Our paper work shows that you have yet to turn in your completed list of classes. Please hand in the _completed_ list of the classes you have chosen to your Head of House upon your arrival. Yours Truly, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress. Perfect." The last two pages were the materials list and the forecast sheet I'd turn into my Head of House.

I scanned the class list carefully, mentally crossing off subjects like Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.

"Construction?" I read still scanning the list, "I've never heard of that class. Do they say anything about it in the intro?" I re-read the introductory letter again.

I was trying to immerse myself in something else besides…this was a welcome distraction.

"New programs, blah, blah, blah. Must be at least sixteen years of age to participate. These programs use an integrated approach to learning, designed to allow every student opportunities to be active participants in their educational plans…identify career interests…performance standards may be met through knowledge and skills tests or through work samples. Sure they are." I returned my attention to the list as Prince reclaimed his spot on my lap.

Most of these were extra defense classes. The school was going to help its students prepare themselves for Voldemort's Death Eaters. They had a healing class, a construction class, and two very different aspects of defense. One of these was physical and the other the equivalent of a dueling course group.

There was a regular course schedule available for kids who weren't interested in the newer programs.

"Interesting. I believe I will be taking all of those." I removed a disgruntled Prince off my lap and retrieved a quill and inkwell from my trunk. I prepared my quill then quickly checked off the little boxes next to the classes I wanted. Near the bottom they had a space for a parent signature. With a grim smile on my face I signed my own name of the line.

Understanding that I wanted to forget my problems with Molly for the moment, Tonks smiled.

"The perks of being seventeen. Just wait until we get to the Ministry, you'll never want to sign another piece of parchment again."

"You're taking me to the Ministry?"

Tonks rolled her eyes heavenward. "Yes! Unless you don't want to take your Apparation Test…?"

"Oh! Yeah, I'd forgotten about that. Thanks." I said seriously. I knew she was trying to help me forget my current "family" problems and was grateful.

"No problem."

"Just give me a few minutes to gather up my stuff and we can leave." Knowing that I'd be not just be leaving for the afternoon, I began to gather up my bathroom stuff, shoving it all into a worn black carry-on bag. I was trying to remember what I'd read about Apparation when I came out of the bathroom.

"I packed for you." Knowing that Tonks had minimal housekeeping skills I grimaced.

"I think I'm getting better." She said brightly.

Glancing over at my trunk, I highly doubted it. Articles of clothing were sticking out of the sides, suggesting the contents were a jumbled heap. Prince peaked out from under the bed, his fur ruffled as he hissed contemptuously at Tonks.

"Uh-huh. Just give me a minute to get dressed." She bounced out the door and shut it behind her. An exclamation followed by a series of rapid thumps and a resounding crash assured me that Tonks would meet me at the bottom of the stairs.

"I swear, that girl must have broken more bones…" Chuckling, I spent the next twenty minutes re-packing my suitcase. By the time I'd peeled off my shirt and boxers it was nearly ten thirty. I jumped in the shower, taking my bathroom bag with me.

* * *

When I stepped out of the bathroom my stomach growled loudly, urging me to hurry my ass up. I ran my fingers through my hair, slapped on some lip and eyeliner and confronted the contents of my trunk. 

It never really took long for me to dress, having a tendency to purchase black shirts and jeans. I hated formal wizard wear, however, and made a point of tailoring every single robe I bought. I refused to let my robes drag on the ground and trip me up during lessons. Long robes hampered movement and became hazardous when working with potions.

A personal pet peeve, every last one of them was hemmed and tailored into a peculiar style I'd begun to favor in my fourth year. It was a swank punk look that assured every one that despite my austere attire I was female and a fashionably tall, athletic female at that.

Nevertheless, few in the magical community approved of my sense of style, or lack there of. I eyed my Hogwarts robes and grimaced. Perhaps I could get away with just wearing my own robes, which were all black anyway.

"I hate dress codes."

I reached into my trunk and snatched up a pair of leather pants I'd permanently borrowed from a muggle friend who'd owed me money. I stuck my head through one of my older robes, belting up my boots. I locked up my trunk after managing to shrink the other bags using unaided magic so they fit into one of the larger compartments.

Straightening my clothes in the bathroom mirror, I took a minute to assess my appearance. I knew I was stalling, but I didn't care. A small knot in my stomach prevented me from heading directly down stairs.

"I need a skin toner charm. I look pasty." I said, wrinkling my nose.

Instead of lying out in the sun like a normal student I'd often found myself helping the Potions Mistress. In my third year someone tipped her off on the identity of the student responsible for mislabeling all her potion ingredients for her fifth year class. As a result I was eternally enslaved as her personal drudge, labeling, sorting and mixing potions for the rest of my natural life.

That woman had been a ruthless, heartless bitch with a sallow complexion, and short oily hair. And the boys thought Professor Snape was bad. I snorted. That man had nothing on Professor Varner. I remembered having to test a healing potion and shivered. Before you could test a healing potion you had to be injured, Varner had been quite adamant about that.

Remembering that Tonks was waiting I pointed my wand at my trunk.

"_Locomotor trunk_." It did an odd wriggle but stayed stationary. Impatient, I tried it again.

"_Locomotor trunk_." It rose a few inches into the air before falling back onto the floor with a resounding _boom_. I stood there for a moment, puzzled. I knew weight was a large part of the spell, but I'd moved furniture heavier than this at school.

A thought occurred to me: maybe I'd outgrown it. My transfiguration teacher, Professor Grackle, had mentioned something of the like. It was neither common nor that unusual to purchase another wand when you became older. I gave it one more try before I pocketed my wand and made the same gesture with my hand.

"_Locomotor trunk_." It rose steadily into the air before settling at a desirable height.

"Hmm." I stared at my useless wand and decided it would be best if I used it as a prop.

"No one else has to know that I'm not using you." Holding said expired wand aloft I took one last look around the room. The dead, vacant feeling I'd once associated with it had returned. It was as though I'd never lived in it, like no one had for years.

I had to get that Hogsmeade job, I realized as I stood there. If I didn't I wasn't going to have a place to stay over the summer and holidays. I did a quick mental tally of how much money I'd had before coming to England, roughly nine galleons, to what I'd spent that day at Diagon Alley.

"I have three Galleons and four Sickles." I said disbelievingly. It wasn't like I'd had lots of money left over from Dad's funeral to begin with, yet I was shocked. I'd just never thought about it before now. Any thoughts concerning my financial state had been shoved into the back of my mind. I wasn't used to relying completely on my own money for _everything_. Now that I was older and had to I felt my other problems pale in comparison to reality. There were more important things than being mad at my cousins. My financial state for example.

"A job, a flat, and the rest of my school supplies. Maybe I can trade in my wand instead of paying..." I headed down the stairs, my trunk keys jingling from its ring on my belt.

I passed the girls' rooms, then the twins', and the boys' room all the while thinking about how much I hated drunk drivers. If I'd been born into a normal family I wouldn't have to worry about finding a place to stay, getting another job, coming up with the money to buy a new wand; signing up with a new school, an evil mass murderer, or watching out for violent flora and fauna that seemed to hate me instinctively…

No one came out of their respective rooms or opened their doors to watch me go. I was relieved. I never wanted to see them on familiar terms again. I didn't want to see Molly face to face. I just wanted this all to fade into the background, become another memory that I could store away and forget. I didn't need the drama of family life added to my already impressively long list of problems.

Tonks wasn't waiting for me near the steps. Shrugging, I headed down the hallway towards the door. The first stop on my list was the Leaky Caldron, then the Ministry of Magic, and finally Diagon Alley. I tried to remember if there had been a wand shop there.

"Oy! Wait up. Oof!" Tonks exclaimed as she fell into the hall behind me, hard. Amused, I turned around trying not to smile.

"Alright?"

"Yeah. Blast, I've torn my robes." She sighed irritably, picking herself off the floor.

"Waiting in the kitchen?" I asked. She grinned and held up a large paper sack as she jogged towards me. She swore loudly as her robes caught on a hideous coat rack, promptly knocking it over and somehow managing to create a rather large hole in the wall.

"A one man demolition crew." I muttered walking outside. Prince sneezed in agreement.

* * *

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day." Said the serene, disembodied voice of a woman. I stepped out of the telephone booth and out into a fantastic, peacock blue and polished wooden hallway filled with sour faced employees. I didn't blame them. If I had to work with morons like the ministry worker who'd sent me here, I'd be pissed. 

"Why did we have to go through the old telephone booth?" I nodded over to the fancy fireplaces embedded in the walls of the hall. I'd felt like I'd needed to slip into a superman outfit back there.

"Because those are used specifically for ministry officials and you're a visitor." Tonks stated simply. I followed her through the crowed of people and over to a desk labeled **SECURITY**. There was an enormous line winding clear over to a rather tacky statue of a witch, a wizard, a centaur, and a house elf.

"This might take awhile. Security's been real tight lately incase any Death Eaters try to get in." I made a noncommittal sound while groaning internally.

This was going to take for-EVER! I sighed and distracted myself by unobtrusively observing the comings and goings of the visitors. That everyone wearing a silvery button with their name and purpose for coming here.

After forty-five minutes of observing I shifted slightly on my feet, covering a yawn.

_This is worse than the DMV. _Turning around, I saw a disgustingly cheerful witch with short, brassy hair wave energetically at Tonks.

"Oh, Merlin. Here she comes." Tonks murmured out of the side of her mouth, a forced smile on her face.

I couldn't help but snicker as the witch ran over to give Tonks a hug in all her garish glory.

_Wow,_ I thought, taking note of the construction zone orange pants under the flowing, sparkly blue robe.

"TONKS! Oh, I am so glad you're _here_. How _are_ you? It feels like I haven't seen you in _ages_." My lip curled in disgust at the brightly dressed girl. She must be at least twenty, though she sounded no older than thirteen. I grimaced as her high voice screeched every other word.

"How are things in the _field?_" I gritted my teeth as she drew out field. Tonks opened her mouth to answer but was cut off.

"Oh, I can't _wait_ till I graduate!" She jumped in place, her bright pink heels making an annoying tap-tappa-tap on the hardwood floor.

"Only _one_ month left! Thank _Merlin_. Stanton is driving me absolutely _mad_, you know?"

With some amusement I watched Tonks flinch every time the girl stressed a word by raising her voice into a high-pitched squeal. The only damper was that I had to listen to the bubble-gum chewer too (she wasn't chewing but it would fit the look). Bubbles widened her eyes as if remembering something dreadfully important.

"Did you hear about Georgia? _Oh_, this is absolutely _priceless!"_

"Like your shoes." I muttered so only Tonks could hear. Tonks choked on a laugh she fought to keep down. Bubblehead didn't even pause for breath.

"She was caught, get this, _snogging_ _Kyle_ _Weatherbeater_! In _his_ _office_ no less! I mean really, _where_ does the girl get off doing things like that? You should have _heard_ the things–"

"Wand please. Ah-hem, wand please!" A harried looking man in peacock blue robes called. Bubbles pouted slightly while Tonks bid her a relieved good-bye.

"Sorry," Tonks breathed as we saddled up to the desk, "Miss Vanderhorn is here to register as a legal adult and take care of some apparation business." I pointed significantly at my button, which read:

**Astrid Vanderhorn. Apparation Test and Adult Certification**

I handed the weary, pinched looking man my wand. He set it down on a queer balance scale that began to shake before a piece of parchment popped out of an opening at the base. Before giving me back my wand he had me roll up both of my sleeves. Seeing nothing was there he ran what must be the equivalent of a metal detector over me.

I stepped on the indicated mark on the floor as he did so, dryly advising him not to get too friendly. To my surprise he turned slightly pink, clearing his throat. Bemused, I put down my arms as he returned to his spot behind the desk. He visibly collected himself and picked up the strip of parchment from earlier. He did not make eye contact with me.

"Ten and a half inches, yew wood, with a unicorn hair core. Been using it for five years, correct?"

"Yeah." I glanced over at Tonks, wondering if I should have traded in my wand first before coming here. He handed me my wand while he filed away the slip of parchment.

"Just head on up to level six for now. Next!"

I strolled along behind Tonks, who I noticed was cutting her way through the throng of people entering tall golden gates at the end of the hall as fast as possible. I glanced behind me and decided to pick up the pace. The brassy haired bubble-gum chewer was heading our way. Tonks panicked as a particularly large crowed of people halted our progress.

"Alright, move over." I said. She was presently trying to squeeze past two extremely large visitors. I tore off my silver button and tossed my hair scornfully as I squared my shoulders.

_Put on the Bitch Face!_

"Excuse me! Coming through, make way please!" I said, raising my voice so it could be heard clearly over the rumble of conversations in the hall.

I stalked purposely towards the very heart of the assemblage, a doomsday expression plastered on my face. The confidence and unquestionable command I put in my step and voice helped matters immensely. I held up an authoritative hand to stop angry protests as I stormed through the golden gates.

I was only mildly surprised that the surrounding mass cleared a small path for us as they squished together. I was used to the belligerent muggle mobs that flooded the malls and supermarkets in America; nasty places to be after Thanksgiving. Trying to get anywhere after Thanksgiving was pure hell. You needed a helmet, some pepper-spray, and an extra five feet of attitude to survive Black Friday.

So saying, I was more than qualified to handle this mob.

Some visitors traded worried looks and wondered what all the fuss was about. Tonks had picked up at once and had started to bully the more hardheaded persons out of our way, declaring it was urgent Auror business.

We made it to the smaller hall behind the golden gates and took over one of the lifts that stood behind the wrought golden grilles.

"Bloody hell." Tonks leaned against the back wall and sighed loudly. The golden grille clanked shut and began to slowly rise.

"Who was that?" I asked as the lift began to rise steadily upward.

"Darlene Sarlow. She's an Apprentice Auror, if you can believe it. She's quiet an actress and dead on with her wand."

"Huh. Your regular stalker?" Tonks snorted.

"That's putting it lightly. She's a vicious little monster, won't take a hint. I can't seem to shake her; I feel like I have a living shadow every time I come into the office. I don't know what she's doing out of the training room or how she gets past Stanton." She shook her head, her tone grudgingly impressed.

"She color blind?" I asked. Tonks chuckled and shook her head no.

"The girl's slicker than a kelpie. Her brother's a real looker though. Met him when Dumbledore interviewed him." There were several loud clicks as the lift doors opened and the grille slid back.

"Level six, Department of Magical Transport, Incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparation Test Center." The same serene female voice from the telephone booth announced.

Twelve purple paper airplanes zoomed past us and into the lift, the words **MINISTRY OF MAGIC** stamped on their wings.

"Cool. Much better than using owls to deliver messages back and forth." I said, stepping out of the lift.

"I heard they used to use owls, but this was more effective and leaves less of a mess." Three rather frazzled witches were bickering back and forth as they helped a rather green appearing girl into the vacated lift. I caught the tail end of the conversation and winced sympathetically. The girl had nearly splinched herself during her Apparation Test.

Tonks must have misinterpreted the look on my face because she gave me an encouraging smile.

"Don't worry, you'll do fine. Come on, it's this way." She led me through a maze of hallways with stiff carpeted floor and white walls flashing notices and important dates.

"How long will this take?" I asked, jumping out of the way of a stack of walking books.

"Pardon me, ladies." The small man holding up the towering mass said before disappearing around the corner. Paper airplanes were everywhere it seemed as they swooped and dodged around people. Everyone was going somewhere or doing something as they came in and out of nearby doors. I heard a lady wearing a large yellow robe bellowing at some poor old man about her fireplace connection and a wedding.

"Here we are." Tonks pulled open a large oak door with **APPARATION TEST CENTER** stamped across it in gold.

She quickly ushered me through. The doors snapped shut behind us and I sighed in relief as the raucous faded. In front of me was a lobby of sorts with several comfortable cushioned chairs stationed all around the room. The floor was a patchwork of blue and gold tiles. Sunlight steamed through five evenly spaced windows along the far wall, casting a warm glow on a long wooden desk where several wizards and witches were wearing the now familiar peacock blue uniforms of ministry officials.

I was strongly reminded of a muggle DMV as people were called up to hand in their papers before being directed through a set of double doors to be tested. Every time someone opened that door it sounded as though a giant bag of popcorn was being microwaved back there. It was going to be a long wait.

* * *

Three hours, five paper cuts, and a bruised backside later Tonks and I apparated to my room at the Leaky Caldron. 

"Holy shit! I never want to sign another bloody piece of paper." I declared vehemently, slumping on to my bed. Prince yawned from his place among the covers.

"I don't blame you. Just watching you sign all those documents gave me a headache. I don't remember there being so many when I registered as an adult. Must be because you're foreign." Tonks decided from her place near the door.

I swallowed a sarcastic retort and sighed, fingering my newly healed wounds. Having had no learning in that particular area, let alone a wand to do it with, Tonks had taken care of the stinging paper cuts.

"What time is it?" Tonks asked, opening the door. I glanced down at my watch.

"Almost four, why?"

"I have somewhere I haveta be." Order business then. I nodded, tapping my fingers on the tops of my knees.

"Later then. Thanks for…everything." I said sincerely. She gave me a smile of understanding and gave my shoulder a quick squeeze.

"I'll be here if you ever need to talk to someone. Don't ever think you're alone, Astrid. I'll be there for you should you need me. Be careful. Make your teachers miserable. And nice job on your Apparation Test. I knew you could do it." A warm, pleased feeling settled into my stomach and I told her I would. She left with a cheerful smile and a _crack_.

Feeling better than I had all day I scratched Prince's head.

"Be good. I still have to pick up my wand." He purred softly, his blue eyes glazed with sleep.

"Lazy cat. I'll leave the window open for you." The first thing I'd done when I'd left the house was rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron, making sure it was one located on the ground floor. The window allowed Prince to jump outside and relieve himself should the need arise.

I shut the door behind me and made my way down the hall, following some other people out the back door and into Diagon Alley. As the bricks rearranged themselves into the large stone archway I fiddled with my wand.

What if I couldn't afford a new one? I shook my head slightly. I wouldn't think about that. I would get a wand and that was that. I tromped down the street, my eyes flicking from store to store. I passed Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and my stomach growled. I'd been hours since I'd ate the sandwiches Tonks had stashed into the brown paper bag she'd taken with her when we left the house.

Groaning softly as the smell of freshly baked brownies and other sweets that were mixed into ice cream, I forced myself to walk away. Trying not to breath in the alluring aroma I hurried past the parlor and almost died a horrendous, and ultimately embarrassing death.

"WATCH OUT!" Someone grabbed me around the waist and hauled me bodily out of the way of as a flying toilet crashed into the cobble stones where I'd stood not seconds before. The impact was impressive and made my ears ring. Screams from bystanders and curses from the people who had thrown themselves sideways filled the air. A cloud of gray dust, stirred up from the collision, muffled the yells of terror as people began to cough.

I heard a man with a thick Scottish brogue bellow, "SORRY!" as he leaned out of the upper story window. I heard what must be twenty Ministry officials apparate on the scene to investigate.

Coughing, I allowed myself to be led away by my rescuer. My vision was distorted slightly from the dust as I stumbled into a tattered little shop on the right side of the street, a strong arm holding me close to prevent me from falling.

A bell chimed deep within the shop as we entered. There was almost nowhere to stand, the floor being covered with hundreds of thin tiny boxes, all of them piled neatly up to the ceiling. Once I had stopped coughing and had regained my senses I pointedly stepped away from the muscled body I was being crushed against.

"Thank you." I said tersely, detangling myself from the arm. Turning around, I saw that my rescuer was a young man perhaps four years my senior. His clothing belonged to that of a ministry Auror. Dust smudged his face and arms and had settled in his hair, making him look older.

"All right there?" His voice was kind and concerned like his bright hazel eyes. He was a tall, powerfully built man of about twenty with fine auburn hair and long sideburns.

_Cute, but undoubtedly simple. Too bad._

"Yeah, thanks." I gave him a nod of dismissal and concentrated on brushing the dust off my clothes. It came off in gray puffs, making me cough.

"Sorry about grabbing you earlier. I'm Mike Sarlow by the way." The image of a brassy haired witch flashed before me and I made a face.

"Sarlow as in Darlene Sarlow?" His eyebrows shot up in surprise, then amusement.

"Yes, I take it you've met my sister." He smiled at me, straight white teeth flashing in his tanned face.

I remembered what Tonks had said about him and rolled my eyes. She _would_ like him. I ran a hand through my hair and caught him staring. And not at my face.

"Excuse you." I said pointedly. His eyes snapped up to mine instantly and I gave him a look that could peel the paint off a house. He ducked his head, a little red around the ears.

_Pervert._

"Hmm. I haven't seen you in here for quite some time, Miss Sweetblood." Startled, I swung around at the softly spoken statement. An old man with wispy white hair and silvery eyes was peering at me intently. His eyes widened for a split second as he examined me more closely.

"My apologies, Miss…?"

"Vanderhorn." He nodded, silver eyes still fixed on my face. Goosebumps were prickling my arms and I shifted uneasily. Mike sneezed and the penetrating silver eyes landed on him.

"Ah, Mr. Sarlow. Oak and phoenix feather. Eleven and a half inches."

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Ollivander. I'm sorry for disturbing you. Someone lost control of their toilet and Miss Vanderhorn here was nearly crushed by it."

"Luckily for her you were on duty this evening then. Are you off now?" My lips twitched, catching the underlying tone of reprimand.

"No, unfortunately. I should get going. Farris is probably wondering what the bloo—ahem. What happened to me."

I snorted inwardly._ Like I care if you curse or not. _

"I hope I'll see you around sometime, Miss Vanderhorn. I'm afraid today is my last day patrolling Diagon Alley, however. Perhaps I can reach you by owl?" He asked casually, catching me off guard.

It wasn't that I had''t ever been hit on, it just always surprised me. I normally avoided boys. Or scared them shitless. A woman with a mind of her own is a terrifying thing. Especially when said woman has a sure-fire mouth, a competitive streak wider that the English Channel, and an instinctive hatred for stupidity among other things.

I glanced over at Mr. Ollivander and bit the inside of my cheek. It wouldn't do me any good if I made a bad impression on him before I even asked him if I could possibly trade in my wand.

"Perhaps."

"Excellent. Have a wonderful evening Miss Vanderhorn, Mr. Ollivander." Sarlow gave me a smile before briskly heading out the door. Annoyed, I returned my attention back to Mr. Ollivander.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Vanderhorn?" He asked, giving me a searching look.

"Yes, actually. I was in fact on my way here before the flying toilet crashed." I said dryly. I pulled out my wand and handed it to him. Wrinkle creased hands gently took the wand as he turned a calculating eye on it.

"Grown out of it have we? Hmm. Yew wood with a unicorn hair core." He handed it back and pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings on it out of his pocket and measured it.

"Ten and a half inches. _Stellare!_" What appeared to be a small shooting stare burst from the end of my wand in a shower of white sparks.

"Good. Which arm is your wand arm?"

"My right." Mr. Ollivander measured around my head, from my shoulder to the tips of my fingers, elbow to wrist, and from head to toe.

The measuring tape began to measure the width between my eyes as Mr. Ollivander turned to consult the shelves and stacked columns of boxes. He extracted a rather long box from the shelf and brought it over to me.

"That's enough." He said and the measuring tape fell to the floor in a heap. "Twelve and a quarter inches, beech wood with a phoenix feather core. Exceptionally flexible." He took it out of the box and handed it to me. I gave it an experimental flick but nothing happened. He plucked it nimbly for my fingers and began handing me wands one right after another.

"Ooh. Difficult eh? Well, we'll see about that. Willow, ten inches, its core coming from a rather temperamental female unicorn." I'd barely touched it when he snatched it back

"No, no, no. Here. Oak and dragon heartstring. No? Not to worry. Hmm…" He trailed off and went to consult his shelves again, tapping his chin with an inordinately long, white finger. Boxes of discarded wands littered the floor around me and I tried not to become frustrated. My stomach was growling continuously, putting me in a fowl mood.

It hadn't been this hard to find my first wand I couldn't help thinking. The lady had simply handed me the first wand in sight, twittering happily at me when it sent up purple sparks.

"Blackthorn wood with a phoenix feather core. " Mr. Ollivander announced, handing me a new wand. Faster than I could say 'hocus-pocus' he swiftly took it back again.

"You're quite the customer. Remind me of another young lady I had in my store years ago." He gave me a questioning look before staging a conversation with himself.

"Perhaps…it might work. Eight inches, excellent for spell casting, powerful—yes that'll do." He muttered, silver eyes shining. I eyed him warily as he shuffled off, returning from among the stacks of wands with a particularly dusty box. He opened it up and placed a fine-grained mahogany wand in my hand.

The moment I touched it I knew this the one. My skin tingled impatiently and I snapped my wrist upward sharply. Purple and silver sparks exploded from the tip of my wand immediately, coaxing a triumphant smile out of me.

"Very good! Bravo, Miss Vanderhorn, bravo. Yes. Interesting choice, I must admit. Very interesting." Mr. Ollivander said softly. I raised an eyebrow at him but chose not to comment.

I just wanted to leave and order something at the Leaky Cauldron. After he allowed me to trade in my wand I paid him two more Galleons to cover the rest of the cost. I thanked him briefly and left.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I noticed that the street lamps were on. The sun had sunk low behind the buildings, throwing parts of the alley in shadow. Checking my watch I realized I'd been in there for roughly little over an hour. There were less people about, most of them rushing home to be with their families.

Strolling casually across the street I glanced causally at the sidewalk in front of the ice cream parlor. The pothole left behind from the toilet had been filled and smoothed over expertly, the slight dip in the cobblestones barely noticeable.

"Miss Vanderhorn. I thought you'd be long gone by now." Mike Sarlow was smiling engagingly at me from his place at one of the parlor tables. He was still wearing his work robes but appeared to have washed the dust out of his hair.

"Yes, well I should be going. My cat is probably worried." I said coolly, nodding to him. I headed down the street, sighing as I heard him scoot back his chair and get up to join me.

"Just your cat?" He inquired, giving me a sidelong glance after he caught up with me. I turned and gave him a cold glare, pointedly brushing off his question. I was not interested. Not now, not ever.

"Ah. I see." He said carefully, having apparently gauging my animosity. He was quiet for a minute. I felt myself growing increasingly irritated as we drew closer to the archway.

"How long have you been in England, Miss Vanderhorn? I take it you're from America?"

I glanced over at him before returning my attention to the archway, ignoring him. I was within five feet of it when he placed a hand on my shoulder. I immediately slapped it off, jabbing my wand into his stomach. I couldn't help but notice that it was rock hard.

"Don't touch me." I warned him, pissed. He backed up, hands open and held out to his sides.

"I apologize, I meant no offense. I only wanted to get your attention and ask you to dinner."

I snorted. There was no way in hell I was going anywhere with him, a man I'd met in a wand shop.

"I think not." I informed him firmly, staring him dead in the eye. "I appreciate you risking your life to save mine and I thank you. Goodbye Mr. Sarlow." I left him standing there with a stupefied look on his chiseled face. Curiously tired I ran a weary hand trough my hair as I passed beneath the archway with another couple.

Before it closed behind me I heard him call out, "Rain check?"

My face must have betrayed me because he gave me a slow half smile before the archway sealed itself up.

_Damn. _I swore, walking towards the Leaky Cauldron. A small smile appeared on my face as I pushed open the back door. _Hedoes have an incredible ass though._

* * *

**(A/N): **

**If any of you have suggestions or catch major mistakes on this chapter let me know. I'm sorry for the lack of updates. I know it's ridiculous. I hope to commit myself more fully over the summer when I'm off work.**

**Also, as I may have mentioned earlier, I am going to be re-updating some chapters like this one. I'm sorry for not just leaving it but I can't help not fixing it. At first I thought it was fine but after re-reading it decided it was terrible. So, here's another version of Chapter 9.**

**Again, I'm sorry for fiddling with my posted work.**

**Eating donuts, the author**

**PS: American High-Fi (or whatever) came to my high school today. I don't really like their music but it was fun. I ended up being a half an hour late for my chemistry class. I also got all of their signatures on my chemistry homework. One of the guys told me that that was a first.**


	10. Platforms

"**Mess with the best, die with the rest." –Forget who said it **

* * *

**Chapter 10 **

I woke up at five twenty the next morning, wide-awake and ready to go. I tried not to stare at the clock as I waited. That's the funny thing with time; it always does the opposite of what you say, reminding me of a hyperactive kid at a supermarket. Stay still! The kid runs off. Don't touch that! The kid stuffs it in his mouth. Be quiet! The kid starts screaming.

This morning it seemed to slow down until every minute dragged by as if it were an hour. The rest of the time I spent lying on the floor rug, getting a feel for my new wand by shooting down flies and other insects that had infiltrated into my room via the window.

After the first spell I knew that a new wand had been in order a long time ago. That I had made it through O.W.L's with my old wand was amazing.

"Gotcha!" I said under my breath as a particularly large fly fell out of the air and landed with a soft _plink_ on the seriously scuffed hardwood floor.

The wand was supple and precise, the weight comfortable in my hands. Compared to wandless magic I didn't have to concentrate at all, just aim and shoot. _Plink_.

"And another one bites the dust." My spells were also more potent. I had to relearn how much energy and effort I had to put behind my spells. The first fly I'd shot was still splattered all over the far wall.

"_Scourgify_." I said, point my index finger at the offending mess. The messed vanished and I sat up, proceeding to banish the rest of the bug carcasses.

Working with wandless magic was almost like a mind exercise. I was training my mind to focus completely and entirely on accomplishing one thing. I could do a few spells without much effort but other than that…it still took a lot outta me. I knew my Occlumency skills were wanting but I was satisfied with being able to keep up a basic block.

"Dumbledore could plow right through it without even trying." I guessed, getting to my feet. I walked over to the window and sat on the sill. I could see into the backyard and watch people come and go from Diagon Alley.

"Meerrrooowwww." Prince leapt up next to me, his blue eyes demanding attention. I smiled at him and pulled him into my lap.

"Oof! Damn you're getting heavy. Want to go into town with me today? I still need those books." I smoothed back his hair, gently preening his feathers with my fingers. Prince flicked his tail lazily, eyes half closed. I took that as a no.

_Or…I could break those copyright charms. I could borrow someone's and duplicate it._

I smirked. That's what I'd do. I'd done it for money once at the Institute. I normally preferred to buy my own books but I didn't really have a choice here. The texts would be expensive and I didn't have that kind of money.

I glanced down at my watch again and decided I'd wait one more hour before heading down to the station. It was only eight thirty but I figured I'd have to get there early if I wanted my own compartment.

As I sat in the window I thought about Hogwarts. This morning I hadn't been able to go back to sleep, and instead had went down stairs and ordered a cup of coffee. The cup was still resting near the foot of my bed where I'd practiced breaking it and repairing it for a half hour after bringing it upstairs.

What did the castle look like? I had rarely encouraged Tonks to talk about Hogwarts but what she had told me was amazing. Moving staircases, walking suits of armor, fake doors, a poltergeist…

"And boys." I said out loud. The last time I'd gone to a boys' and girls' school I'd been twelve, having missed the Institute's age dead line by a handful of days. My thoughts jumped to Mike Sarlow and I frowned.

"It's going to be difficult to restrain myself from hexing people this year. You'll have to help me. Ah, that reminds me. Dumbledore said you'd have to stay with the Magical Creatures teacher." Prince opened his eyes and tipped his head back to look at me.

"I know. He didn't say you had to stay there. I'm sure you could sneak into the castle whenever. But you must promise me something." I looked down to make sure he was listening. His deep blue eyes stared unblinkingly into mine.

The bizarre idea that I was the pet here and he the owner swept through me. I remembered the look he gave me the first time we'd met. It'd been as if he'd bought me and not the other way around. I shook my head at the notion. The mind is a funny thing.

"Prince, you must never, ever attack a student. What happened to Ron cannot ever happen at Hogwarts. If the ministry...it wouldn't matter if the student was trying to kill me, we would still be blamed. Do you understand?

"With everyone sitting on pins and needles over the Dark Lord a thing like that would send them into overdrive and we'd be screwed. I know that being dark doesn't make a thing evil. It just makes it cautious. But most people don't understand that." I thought of Molly and pursed my lips.

"They don't understand that at all. They see only what they want to see, never looking past the surface. And even if they do, they can never quite shake off their fear or resentment." I said bitterly. I sighed and rested my head back against the windowsill, rubbing the area in between Prince's shoulder blades, brooding. Prince eventually closed his eyes and was fast asleep by the time the owl came.

It landed heavily on the windowsill next to me and stuck out its leg. The owl was a healthy brown color with bright yellow eyes. I united the letter and recognized the squat capital letters immediately. I didn't know Tonks had an owl, must be the Ministry's.

"Thanks. I'd offer you something but—" I shrugged my shoulders apologetically. The owl hooted disdainfully at me before hoping back out the window as if to say, 'Even if you did I wouldn't take anything from the likes of you'.

"Stuck up pigeon." I muttered, haphazardly tearing open the letter. The whole thing was a whole whopping three sentences long. She wasn't going to be in owl reach for the next couple of weeks.

"Always Order business." She couldn't tell me anymore than that; however, I was to be terrible to my teachers and beat the shit out of a boy named Malfoy. I wasn't to get caught.

Refolding the letter I slipped it into my back pocket, smirking. The boy must have done something unforgivable if Tonks encouraged violent encounters with him. How immature yet utterly delightful. I'd heard about Malfoy from Ron, who whined constantly about 'the bouncing ferret'. And Snape. They never seemed to tire of bad-mouthing the man. They'd dubbed him 'greasy bastard', or 'THE Greasy Bastard'; so original of them.

I often times thought that there must be some secret traditional dress for Potion Mistresses and Masters. All of them seemed to have lank, greasy hair, sallow skin, and a broom shoved up their arse.

I checked the time and I was startled to see that it was half past nine. How long had I been sitting there before the letter came?

"Long enough apparently..."

"Platform nine…platform ten." I cocked an eyebrow and eyed the space between the two platforms. The entrance couldn't be too hard to find since they expected first year muggle-borns to find it. I myself have never ridden a train before in my life.

I'd apparated here making sure to appear in the parking lot so the unmistakable _crack _might be mistaken for the bang of an exhaust pipe. I'd had to leave Prince with the trunk while I searched for a baggage cart, it being too heavy for me to even budge physically. Once I'd gotten the cart I'd cheated, using magic to levitate the truck while I pretended to heave it onto the trolley.

The trolley was cumbersome and hard to steer, one of the wheels having a tendency to veer right. Departing tourists and returning citizens packed the train station also provided difficult obstacles to maneuver the trolley around.

"Prince, is the barrier our platform?" I asked, not expecting an answer. The barrier was the simple and most obvious entrance. But why did they call it three quarters?

Without my prompting he headed straight for the barrier and then leaned through it, disappearing from sight.

"Well, I guess that answers that." I waited till I could slip through the barrier behind a particularly boisterous group of muggles. As they were passing I pushed my trolley forward and then took the barrier at a run. Unfortunately I hadn't taken into consideration the fact that someone could be exiting the magical platform while I entered.

A little boy who couldn't be older than four came scampering out of the barrier followed closely by a frazzled looking girl wearing school robes. My eyes widened and in the split second I had before I ran them both over I flung out a hand and banished them back through the barrier.

I followed behind them closely, bursting through the barrier and onto the slowly filling platform. In my haste to get the kids out of my way I'd placed too much energy into the charm, sending them flying through the air.

Not totally thinking clearly and pumped with adrenaline I let go of my trolley. With my arms fully extended I split my concentration and fired off two very different spells in two very different directions.

"_Wingardium Leviosa! Immobulus!_" The levitation spell caught the boy and his sister before they slammed into the platform; the trolley froze inches from another unsuspecting family saying their goodbyes. The older girl's frantic screams had caught the attention of several people on the platform, eliciting shocked gasps from the on lookers. The boy was giggling wildly as they were lowered gently on the ground.

The people who had almost been hit by the trolley were oblivious to their predicament. Their attention had been on the catapulting children.

"Caleb! Katherine!" A horrified mother rushed towards the pair, enveloping them in a suffocating hug. I immediately put down my arms and hurried toward my trolley, avoiding the questioning glances cast in my general direction. Prince appeared at my side and trotted behind me as I quickly walked toward the scarlet steam engine.

I wrestled with the trolley, forcing it to move in a straight line towards the farthest carriage. Fortunately not a soul seemed to have realized _I'd_ been responsible for the kids' screaming or that my wand had been in my robe pocket when I'd cast those spells.

No, instead a few took to looking for the culprit near the wrought iron gates that had replaced the barrier. I stopped before the last carriage and withdrew my wand.

"_Locomotor Trunk_." It rose easily into the air and I guided it onto the train. There was no one in here. Breathing a sigh of relief I entered the first compartment, knowing it would make getting off easier if I didn't have to shove my way through the drove of students that was sure to fill the small corridor.

I slid back the compartment doors and deposited my trunk below the window. I plopped down on the plush seats that faced either side of the wall, my back to the window. The compartment was nice and comfortable; the air was fresh and everything had a clean shine about it.

"Something Tonks would quickly remedy." I said, my lips twitching. Prince curled up on the opposite bench, feigning sleep. I rolled my eyes and withdrew my wand from the inside of my robes. I usually didn't bother removing them around muggles as they didn't stick out like the normal, floor length robes. I might look odd, but I passed it off as a new punk fad.

"Just trouble waiting to happen." I said mockingly, twirling my wand in between my fingers. My gaze landed on the door handle and I grinned wolfishly.

"Just waiting…"

* * *

When the warning whistle had finally blown I'd successfully hexed what might have been six girls and four boys, though some of the girls might have indeed been boys screaming. Door handles were dangerous things.

By the time the third intruder had rolled around I'd tapped the compartment windows black with my wand, a sure sign that whoever was behind them did not want to be disturbed. I hadn't bothered locking the door handle, rather enjoying myself by hexing it for those particularly nosey students.

I was looking out over the patchwork of green and yellow fields through the window when someone tried the door handle again. I waited for the tell tale yelp and smiled when I heard the culprit comply. Definitely a boy.

"BLOODY HELL!"

I chuckled, still staring out the window. England sure was a beautiful place. It was actually a lot like home: it never seemed to stop raining.

"What's going on here?" The familiar, high, bossy tone of the new visitor inquired. I grimaced upon recognizing the owner.

"Excuse me, I asked you a question. What is going on here?" My victim went on to describe his affliction quite liberally, spitting out curses right and left. I laughed out loud when Granger threatened him with her wand if he didn't watch his mouth.

"Well then FIX ME!" He roared. I heard her direct him to the onboard nurse, having no idea how to cure this particular case of boils as it was continuing to spread to certain regions of his body that he'd rather were left alone.

"Hello, is there anyone in here?" She began knocking insistently on the door, raising her voice until I was sure people in the next carriage could hear her. I sighed irritably my and got up from my seat.

"I am a school prefect and I will be forced to report—!" I opened the door mid knock, a bored expression on my face.

"Can I help you with something?" Her eyes went wide and she was incapable of speech for a moment, evidently surprised to see me.

"H-hello Astrid." I didn't say anything, waiting for her to collect herself. Sure enough, she cleared her throat and automatically fell into Lecture Mode.

"I'm afraid I will have to give you a verbal warning for using magic on another student. It is against the rules for Hogwarts students…" I let her go on, not wanting to interrupt what must have been a direct passage right out of the rule book. It was really quite impressive.

She must have been used to people ignoring her though because it didn't take her long to notice that I was looking at a spot just to the right of her shoulder and not paying any attention to her at all.

"Astrid, are you listening?" She huffed, fits on hips. I recognized that gesture as Molly's and suddenly discovered I didn't like Granger, or her lectures.

"What? I'm sorry I don't speak bullshit. Perhaps you ought to try the next compartment over." With that I slammed the door in her face, locking it for good measure.

I heard her stomp away, incensed. I shook my head and returned my attention to the window after I reclaimed my seat.

The afternoon sun had sunk low behind the surrounding mountains and forests by the time someone else tried the door again. I must have been dreaming that I was watching the countryside race by because the rattle of the doorknob awoke me. My eyes snapped open and I started a little when only an inky blackness through the windowpane was visible.

I yawned, rising gingerly to my feet after removing Prince from my lap. He must have climbed up after I'd zonked out. I briefly thought about just casting a heating hex on it but decided against it. It might just be Granger checking to make sure I'd taken her verbal warning seriously. I didn't want to give her the pleasure of writing me up for detention. I shook my head, that girl was a menace.

"Yeah?" I asked, unlocking the door and cracking it open. No one was there.

My eyebrows drew together and I opened the door wider, glancing down the length of the lamp lit corridor. Doorbell ditch?

"Have you seen my kitten?" I flinched as a young girl with big brown eyes and freckles popped the question on me. She had been standing off to the side, just next to the door. I looked down at her and guessed she couldn't be tall enough to touch the tip of my nose.

"No." Her hopeful face crumpled and I realized that she'd been crying. The little girl's hair was a sloppy mess of light brown curls and her sleeves were damp. Her round little face was the epitome of childish woe as she looked down at her small black shoes that peaked out from beneath an oversized school robe.

"I can't find Dusa anywhere." She revealed, her voice nearly inaudible. I tilted my head to the side, biting the inside of my cheek. I really didn't want to deal with this. I looked around and sighed resignedly when no one appeared in the corridor. Typical.

"Have you asked a prefect?" I inquired carefully. Ishifted uncomfortablyas her lower lip began to tremble. She raised her hands, hidden by her long sleeves, to wipe her face.

"N-no." She said wretchedly, still not looking at me. She sniffled and I foresaw the impending emotional eruption that was sure to transpire if I didn't do something quick.

"Uhh…" I chewed my bottom lip and looked over my shoulder into the compartment. An idea in the form of Prince presented itself to me and I jumped on it instantly.

"Prince, find the girl's cat and bring it to me. It has to be around here somewhere." He glared at me from his place on the cushioned bench and took his sweet time stretching and flapping his wings before coolly walking past me.

"Felines." I grumbled as he regally stalked down the hall. A small hiccup reminded me of the girl and I made a sour face. Turning around I was relieved to see that the flood had abated, at least for now.

"Tha-thank you for helping me. My name's Leslie, my aunt's a professor at Hogwarts. She sent me Dusa when she found out I'd finally gotten my letter." She said, coughing a little.

"I'm Astrid…would you like to wait in here with me?" I suggested reluctantly, indicating the compartment. Leslie nodded, giving me a wobbly smile. I turned away from her and sighed inwardly, tapping the windows back to normal. How I hated children, especially those that cried.

Being unable to see anything other than the velvety black sky out the window, I stared absently at the wall and waited. Every now and then I'd hear a small sniffle or a distracting shift of clothing. Once I even heard her begin to hum what sounded suspiciously like 'This land is my land, this land is your land'. Each time I'd significantly look over at her, clearly discouraging anymore noises.

"Sorry." She whispered when I narrowed my eyes one last time at her for humming. Not acknowledging the admission of guilt I returned my gaze to my chosen spot on the door, willing Prince to scratch at it. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes to what could have been centuries or merely a couple more minutes.

"Shouldn't we be there by now?" The girl asked, curiously. I had been wondering the same thing. The train hadn't slowed its pace or gave any other indication of stopping however. Then, as if our joined thoughts had summoned it, the same serene disembodied voice I recognized from the ministry echoed throughout the train. We would arrive at Hogwarts in five minutes time. Our luggage would be brought in separately so if we would leave it here…

The girl swallowed nervously, seemingly having forgotten all about her kitten. She twisted the overly large sleeves of her robe nervously. I heard other compartments begin to bang open and stood to join the thronging students in the corridor.

"Shouldn't you put on your robes?" Leslie asked, her eyes now bright with excitement instead of tears. Not having had nor heard any authority figure demand that I change, I curtly told her no. I highly doubted anyone would don his or her school robes until tomorrow; mine were black anyway.

"Oh." She said in a small hurt voice. I closed my eyes in annoyance. I hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. Why did people have to be so sensitive? Refusing to apologize for something I shouldn't have to apologize for, I led the way out of the compartment.

I eventually squeezed my way off the train and onto a pathetically small platform where a lumbering giant of a man was beckoning with a brightly glowing lantern as he gathered up the first years; the older students were congregating a few yards away from the platform as they waited to climb into a thestral-drawn carriages.

The first time I'd seen a thestral I'd been twelve, barely into my first year at the Institute. I didn't understand why I could see it; I still don't understand. I've never, in my entire life, actually been a witness to someone's death. I knew for a fact that only those that had seen death could see these winged, black, scaly, sinister horses.

"Um, Astrid?" Leslie called from behind me. I turned around to look at her.

"D'you think—could you please bring Dusa to me when you find her?" She asked more confidently and much more calmly than I'd expected (a crybaby to a mildly intelligent youth in an instant). I nodded, my mind still processing the unexpected presence of the Thestrals.

"Thanks!" She said brightly, running off to join the anxious and rather pale looking first years huddling together for both warmth and security. Wrapping my hemmed robe closer to me in acknowledgement to the sharp, biting wind that had crept up, I cautiously headed for the carriages. Everything was wet, suggesting that it'd been raining for the better part of the day. As I drew closer to the black sea of robes and pointed hats, I sighed; they were all wearing their school robes.

"Oy! Watch where you're going." A hard-faced girl spat, shoving me forcefully to the side. Not having any traction on the rain-slicked grass, I tripped and fell face first into a mud puddle posing as a small pond.

Drenched, I swore violently as I picked myself up, spitting out brown, gritty, water. The laughter of several nearby students drew my attention. In the center of the snickering group was a vicious looking, toothpick thin chit with a smirk on her face. I narrowed my eyes and slowly drew the sleeves of my robe across my mud-streaked face. I knew she was the one that had pushed me and she knew I knew. The bitch sneered at me before leading her entourage of giggling females toward an open carriage.

Hell would freeze over before I left some short, bulimic, pug-faced, blond haired British bitch walk away from me like this. It wasn't even the first day of school and already I was making friends.

A heartbeat later found me halfway through a very potent curse aimed at the girl's back. With one last abrupt twist of my hand a jet of sickly yellow light flecked with black shot towards her. Warning shouts alerted her, but it was too late. Her eyes widened in fear as the spell nailed her in the chest as she'd turned around. The girl screamed, falling to her knees as she beat wildly at herself as if thousands of bees were stinging her. I smiled grimly before casually striding towards a discarded carriage, its almost-occupants temporarily distracted by the terrorized shrikes coming from the frantically jerking chit I'd hit with the Swarm Curse.

The thestral snorted violently and eyed me distrustfully. Ignoring it I jumped in. It took off at a trot up the sloping drive as soon as I closed the door. Out the window I could see two adult figures sprinting towards the ring of curious spectators that surrounded the now swelling girl.

"Ouch. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost." I leaned back in my seat, frowning. My feet were swimming in my waterlogged boots and my hair, like my clothes, was soaking wet. I sighed yet again and spent the rest of the short ride blasting hot air at my head and robe after vanishing most of the rainwater out of my boots.

Fifteen minutes later the carriage came to a swaying halt and I stepped out for my first view of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was—beautiful. I spent more than a few minutes just standing there, awed. The school was set high up on a mountain over looking a vast lake that gradually stopped on the outskirts of an immense black forest; the indistinct, shadowy forms of mountains could be seen in the distance. Thousands upon thousands of stars winked down at me from a velvety black sky rife with clouds, providing a staggering backdrop.

I inhaled deeply, the sharp sent of wet soil and clean mountain air magically stilling the anxiety I didn't know I'd had until it was gone. Simply standing here made me feel calm, secure.

The wind was still blowing the clouds across the sky and I was still dripping wet despite my attempts to dry myself. I reluctantly started up the front steps of the castle with the other students. I passed through the giant oak front doors and a cavernous entrance hall that housed a magnificent marble staircase that led up to the upper floors.

Flickering torches lined the walls above polished suits of armor. Paintings of every size and color adorned the walls, serving as balconies for life-like forms of witches and wizards as they leaned into neighboring frames to talk. Off to the right a door stood open leading into the Great Hall where four long tables were situated under their respective banners. The banners rustled in an imaginary wind that reflected the one outside.

I looked up at the ceiling and shook my head. Tonight's sky had replaced the ceiling, no doubt the work of an enchantment. A cluster of steely gray clouds rolled by and unveiled the moon; a light drizzle seemed to fall down into the hall only to disappear before it exceeded the thousand floating candlesticks stationed in the air to provide light. One would think that the wax would drop onto the shinny, warn tables, yet it didn't.

The hall was buzzing with anticipation and impatience as the students took their seats. Having a suspicion that I wasn't supposed to sit down yet I leaned against the back wall. I was mud encrusted and damp still from the headlong tumble I'd taken earlier, but there was little I could do about it except ask for directions to the showers.

A few curious glances were directed my way but I ignored them. I'd gotten my revenge and frankly I didn't give a shit about my appearance at the moment. I eyed the long tables and the golden silverware. My stomach growled and I folded my arms across my chest. I hadn't had anything to eat all day. I shifted irritably as my mood began to reflect my stomach.

Several minutes went by before the last of the stragglers slunk in. The door closed behind them and the talk lessened. At the very back of the hall was an impressive table set on a landing elevated slightly so that its occupants could over look the candle lit hall. Before I could begin to study my teachers the doors leading to the entrance hall opened to omit an awed mass of small first year students led by no other than Professor McGonagall.

In front of her she carried a scuffed stool where the oldest wizard hat I'd ever seen had been placed. The apprehensive first years filed in ad lined up before the four house tables, a few of them visibly shaking. My lips twitched when Leslie stuck out chin.

"Thatta girl." I murmured softly. No one likes a whiner. Suck it up and stick it out.

Professor McGonagall stood back from the tattered hat and looked at it expectantly, so did the rest of the school. I fixed a curious stare on it and narrowed my eyes when it twitched. A wide rip near the brim opened up and the mangy old hat burst into a song. I grimaced as the gravelly tenor told a rather sad tale of the school founders and their four houses.

When it finished I clapped slowly along with everyone else, frowning. I didn't like the idea of letting that thing take a gander at the contents of my mind. My business was my own.

Professor McGonagall had taken out a roll of parchment and the clapping ceased under her warning gaze. It was time to sort the students. Finally.

"Ainsworth, Deborah!" She called out. A girl with enormous blue eyes stepped out of line and picked up the hat before hesitantly taking a seat.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat shouted. The table underneath the black and yellow banners clapped, welcoming their newest member.

"Bailey, Gregory!"

"GRYFINNDOR!" The source of the cheering came from the table beneath red and gold banners. Two fiery red heads caught my eye and I shifted slightly. Weasleys.

"Cornell, Lewis!" A boy with ears so large I imagined it was hard for him to walk through doors also joined the noisy Gryfindors.

McGonagall continued on down the list, pausing every now and then to allow the new first year sit down at their table. King, Alexander became the first Ravenclaw. McGonagall, Leslie soon joined him.

When the last of the first years had been sorted Professor McGonagall switched lists, the new one being dramatically shorter. A few of the older students shifted restlessly in their seats and groaned. The professor glared at them balefully and they quieted.

"Due to certain events, the Ministry of Magic has requested that all schools allow students willing to transfer to schools closer to home be permitted to do so. As many of you may have noticed, these students are not first years. Despite that fact they are still going to be sorted. Please come up as your name is called."

"Allman, Valentine!" A broad shouldered, shaggy haired youth wearing a smirk strolled up to the stool from the Slytherin table. The female student body sighed collectively. I rolled my eyes and watched as the hat re-seated him at the Slytherin table, which cheered.

"Engstrom, John!" The boy looked like a third year with his round face and small stature. He'd come from the Gryffindor table but was sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Lowe, Robin!" A freckled second year girl with pigtails walked up and joined the Ravenclaws as did Madras, Spencer.

I wondered how long the list was. Not many students willingly left behind friends for family, especially when the Headmaster was a known enemy of Voldemort. I also couldn't help noticing that the Sorting Hat took its sweet time deciding where to put the older students. My stomach growled with impatience.

"McVeigh, Maureen!"

"SLYTHERIN!" The hat bellowed after a minute of contemplation.

"Sharp, Brenton!" There was a long pause before he took his seat at the Gryffindor table.

"Trone, Erica!" A full two minutes ticked by before the hat decided she was a Hufflepuff.

"Vanderhorn, Astrid!"

Outwardly calm, I silently left the wall and submitted myself to the rather humiliating feat of crossing the Great Hall to take a seat on the stool. Many people snickered or hid smiles behind their hands as I passed them. A girl my age laughed outright as I passed her. Without looking at her I snapped my fingers. A yelp brought a smile to my lips and apprehensive stares from the girl's friends.

I knew I was muddy, but I really didn't look _that_ ridiculous.

Looking up at the teachers' table, I saw the Headmaster smile benignly at me over his spectacles. I glanced away and turned my attention on McGonagall, who was pursing her lips. When I reached the stool I perched on the edge of it and faced the whole of Hogwarts, damp, muddy, tired, and hungry. McGonagall lifted the hat over my head.

I hope that pushy bitch learned her lesson, I thought vindictively as I flicked some encrusted mud off my robes.

"SLYTHERIN!" I blinked. I wasn't wearing the hat. I twisted around and saw that it was barely hovering over my head.

"Told you Harry. Murderers belong with murderers. The hat didn't even wait till it touched her head." Ron said snidely, making sure I could hear him as I walked towards the clapping Slytherin table. The applause quickly died as Ron continued to open his mouth.

I'd stopped walking. Stupid as he was he should've realize that he was forcing a confrontation. I couldn't rightly ignore him if he continued to publicly slander my name.

_Just keep digging. Give me a real reason to come after you later dumbshit. _

If I didn't kick his sorry ass people would come to the wrong conclusions. I couldn't do it right under the teachers' noses however. Besides he might miss and hurt a bystander.

_Moron._

I could feel everyone's shocked gaze as they darted between me and Ron. The Teachers were all looking at Dumbledore who was watching me carefully.

"Always knew you were a traitor. Good thing Mum threw you out when she did." Ginny had a horrified look on her face and was trying to shut him up. He shook her off and stood up, his face red.

McGonagall had left the hall after I'd been sorted. Having just returned and taken stock of the situation, she was furious. She ordered Ron to take his seat. He was too caught up in his own actions to listen.

"Mum said you were an untrustworthy murderer. She could hardly blame your parents for leaving such a hateful child behind." I visibly stiffened and he stuck out his chin belligerently though I saw his eyes flicker to his sister in uncertainty.

_You little bastard._

He'd gone too far. I knew it, she knew it, and so did everybody else. My eyes narrowed and I felt my emotions begin to work themselves up into a fury. Any thoughts I may have had about waiting till later disappeared. I heard several people gasp and then felt sharp claws grasp my leg.

I didn't remember closing my eyes but now they snapped open. Prince's tail was lashing from side to side as he gazed penetratingly up at me. I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down, shoving the anger away. I unclenched my hands, my palms bleeding where my nails had dug in. Only knowing that I need to get as far away from Ron as possible, I stalked out of the hall.

* * *

**(A/N) **

**Well here is the long awaited Chapter 10. I may or may not continue to fix it up. If anyone finds mistakes please review, my printer broke so I can't scan it in plain text like I usually do. If any of you would like to comment on the story so far or have minute suggestions I'd be glad to read them.**

**School sucks, the author**

**PS: I just updated it and fixed some of the errors. (Thank you **paprika90**! I'm glad to hear it!)**


	11. School Politics

"**There is no right or wrong, only fun and boring." –The Plague Hacurs**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

As I left the buzzing hall behind me I cursed myself for letting the Weasel get to me. I should have just…Damn him! I let out an aggravated sighed and violently took a seat at the bottom of the great marble staircase.

Prince sat at my feet cleaning his whiskers. I studied him impassively, letting my temper slowly fade as I considered him. He'd kept me from losing my head back there. Never harm a student…I suppose it should, it _did _apply to both of us. Brushing my hair out of my eyes I leaned down to rub his head.

Taking on the look of a cat that's gotten into the cream, His Majesty leaned into my hand. I smiled as the unmistakable sound of a small diesel engine. I sat there for a couple minutes cooling down until my stomach growled.

"Perfect." I muttered, leaning back and running a hand through my hair as I slouched against the steps. The motion sent a sharp pain through my palms and I winced. The cuts weren't deep, but they would sting for a couple days.

I sighed heavily, wondering where in the hell I could find place to shower. And the kitchens. I would take a shower and then find the kitchens. Glad to have a plan I hauled myself to my feet. It was harder than I expected it to be. I was dog-tired. I stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, gray with exhaustion.

"Been a long day has it?" Nonplused, I nodded my head in agreement with a painting on the wall. Hogwarts had so many paintings it was a wonder I could see the walls at all. No doubt they were used as a type of spy system.

"Poor thing looks like she could use a bath." The old crone said to no one in particular. She had a sly look about her, but I was too tired to pay attention.

"I could help you there. Follow me deary and I'll set you to rights. Not you though." She said, waggling a long bony finger at prince.

"You wait here and follow Salazar's students so you can lead her there later. Hide behind that gruesome facade all you want, but I know what you are. I'll make sure the headmaster knows you're not where you're supposed to be." Her eyes had a mad glint to them and I could see saliva glistening around the corners of her lipless mouth.

I drew back but she rounded on me before my mind could follow up with a reason to refuse her offer.

"This way deary. We'll get that mud off you and have one of the house elves bring you something that'll warm you right up. This way deary." Prince lashed his tail once before stalking off to do as he was bid. Seeing him comply dissolved what doubts I'd had. I followed the small stooped backed woman up the stairs as she hobbled through painting after painting.

"Showers are just through there. I'll send up an elf with your dinner after you've scrubbed that filth off you." The crone said. We'd reached the second floor corridor and walked a ways down the hall till we'd reached a door with a sign indicating it was a facility for girls only. And, apparently, it was out of order.

My brow furrowed as I placed my hand on the brass doorknob. I glanced over my shoulder at the crone but she wasn't there. The painting was empty except for a cracked vase sitting on a poorly made wooden table. Shrugging, I pulled the door open and walked in.

As soon as the door had closed behind me I knew I'd been duped. I'd never seen a more depressing bathroom in my life. The wooden stalls were flaking and scratched, the doors hanging off their hinges. Everything had an air of neglect about it from the fractured and spotted mirror, to the chipped sinks. Water covered every inch of the floor and I could make out a warped image of myself by the light of a few squat candles.

A loud crash followed by two cackling voices reached my ears through the door. I closed my eyes briefly in displeasure.

"A painting has suckered me. A painting. How—I must really be out of it." Shaking my head I went to open the door but was met with resistance.

"What in the…" I pushed harder with the same result. I heard more cackling from the other side and swore. Something very large and very heavy was blocking the door.

"I knew Peeves was up to something! He's always finding ways to disturb my toilet and now _you're_ stuck here until Filch comes! Why can't he just leave me alone? Why does he have to make my life so miserable?" The pudgy ghost of a glum faced girl wearing thick bottle coke glasses and pigtails wailed. I blinked at her a few times in surprise.

"Making your death miserable, you mean." I knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as I said it. I winced as she flung herself into a toilet, howling. A gigantic wave of water celebrated her exit.

"Perfect. Just perfect." I said, spitting out the toilet water in utter disgust. I tried the door again and fired off a Blasting Hex at it in frustration. The only visible damage was a rather large scorch mark.

My eyes narrowed. That should have worked unless there was a protective shield charm on the door. But why would they put one on the door of a grimy restroom? I tried several other spells, hexes, and jinxes I knew to no avail. I shook my head and stepped over to see if this place got any hot water.

"Might as well be productive while I'm in here." I headed over to the row of sinks and began twisting all the handles to see which one ran the hottest water. The last sink was out of service and had been for a long time if the lack of drip stains was anything to go by. I shrugged and tested the temperature of the water of first sink.

"Ow! Damn that's hot. Shit." I shook out my hand in an attempt to cool it off; I was not sticking the filthy things in my mouth. I glared at the running water and fiddled with the knobs until it was bearable. This mud was coming off one way or another. I switched off the other faucets and let the water run as I hunkered down to take off my boots. I saw the toilet water on the tiles and wrinkled my nose. I drew my wand and cast a Drought Charm, drying up most of the nasty water.

I proceeded to conjure up a large, waterproof flame to keep me from catching cold. I could also use it to dry out my clothes. I placed my boots a safe distance from the fire and threw my socks in the sink, adding in a _scourgify_ for good measure. Taking care to do the same with all my clothes, I had soon hung up my robe on one of the stall doors near the fire along with my jeans. My shirt and undergarments had dried quickly with my assistance after I myself scrubbed down with some transfigured soap.

I'd placed a Cushioning Charm on the floor near the fire and had been coming my fingers through my hair when I heard footsteps. Desperate, I jumped up and yanked on my pants, hissing at I burned myself on the zipper. Snatching up my wand I ran over to the door, sucking in a breath as my bare feet touched the cold tiles. I put my wand to my throat and started pounding on the door.

"_Sonorus_. HEY! HELLO? SOMEBODY OPEN THESE DAMN DOORS!" I briefly wondered if I'd get docked points for swearing if a teacher answered, but at this point I really didn't give a shit. I was washed-out, worn-out, hungry, and cranky as hell.

"HELL–OO?"

The footsteps drew closer and I ceased beating my fists on the door. It was quiet for a moment then a loud crash made me start. The door began to open and I sighed in relief.

"_Quietus_." I said, canceling the voice projection charm. "Thanks. I've been stuck in here…for…hours." I said, my voice dying as I saw exactly who had come to my rescue.

"Miss Vanderhorn, what are—? Are—you're—you're a student here?" Mike Sarlow stammered out. His face was a mixture of disbelief, shock, and affability.

His robes weren't unlike the robes of a student, yet there were a couple differences. For one they were pullovers, not the open-fronted robes recommended for students. Secondly, instead of having a house crest on his left shoulder, he had his name: Auror Sarlow.

I opened my mouth to speak only to snap it shut. I didn't know what to say. We stood there for a moment, stunned into silence before I shook my head and went back inside to get my boots. My thoughts were writhing around like a ball of worms as I leaned against the sink and pulled on my socks and stomped into my boots.

What was up with this man and toilets? And what was he doing here? He must be patrolling the castle, but why? I absently undid my spells as conversations I'd had raced through my mind.

_After Dumbledore interviewed him_…_Today's my last day patrolling Diagon Alley_…

"Slap my ass and call me Sally." I said as I recalled murmured dinner conversations between Potter, Granger, and the Weasel at Number 12. Security guards, I should have realized...

"Sally, eh?" I looked up and saw that Sarlow had followed me into the bathroom. My face darkened and I glared daggers at him. His eyes laughed into mine as I stood there, making me feel awkward.

"That cabinet out there looks like Peeve's work. He's been corrupting some of the paintings lately, using them to trick some of us while we're on duty. Did you miss the welcoming feast?" He asked, holding the door open for me. Irritated, I didn't answer. I shrugged into my robe and brushed past him into the hallway.

I didn't want to socialize. Couldn't he see that I was tired? It'd been an unbearably long day and I had classes tomorrow. It was bad enough to admit that I'd been stuck in that wretched bathroom for a couple hours without thinking about classes. I made a face at the thought of getting up at some unholy hour tomorrow.

"Hey, come on, I'm not that repulsive." I gave him a martyred look and shook my head. Men, you can never be thinking about something else. You always have to be thinking about them.

"At least let me escort you to the kitchens."

"I'm not—" The unmistakable sound of an empty stomach reached our ears. "—hungry." I finished lamely, sighing in frustration.

"Uh-huh. And my sister's clothes are color coordinated." I smiled before I could stop myself.

"Fine, but I want it to go."

I followed Prince down a set of stone steps leading into what I presumed must be the dungeon, a large cup of soup in hand.

After dragging me to the kitchen Sarlow had left me to follow Prince, who'd been practically spitting nails when I'd found him.

"Hey, you weren't the one stuck in a nasty ass bathroom for the past couple hours. Besides, I wouldn't have gone off with her if you hadn't of stalked off. Yes I mean you." I went to take a drink from my cup and frowned. Peering into it I wondered where it'd all gone.

"How much farther?" Now that my stomach was full I was starting to feel sluggish. Walking was proving to be a challenge and I had to keep my eyes wide open so I wouldn't collapse right there in the hallway.

Prince hissed at me as I nearly fell flat on my face to keep from stepping on him.

"Argh!" He'd stopped partway down a dimly lit stone passageway. The air was cold and clammy; the walls were slimy with water and streaked with a green substance I could only assume was some sort of algae. Nice.

"Damn catergys." I muttered, grimacing as I tried to shake off the slim I'd gotten on my hand when I'd clutched at the wall to prevent myself from falling.

A concealed stone door swung open to my right and I blinked. Prince stuck his tail high in the air and flounced through the hidden entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. Relieved that we'd finally made it, I stepped over the threshold after him.

The common room was extensive. Located far underground the room had rough stonewalls and ornate green lamps hanging from the ceiling. Deep green, almost black curtains covered one wall, covering what I didn't know. At the other end of the room was the fireplace. It was huge and the mantelpiece was a real work of art, depicting several intertwined snakes. High backed armchairs and tables were sprinkled around the room. The glow from the fire encompassed three luxuriously upholstered couches.

The overall effect was darkly elegant and set a meditative mood.

"I could get used to this." I said, plopping down on one of the couches. I exhaled happily and sunk into the cushions, my eyes drooping. The flames didn't rise any higher in the grate, but it seemed to exude more warmth. I heard more than saw Prince seat himself comfortably on the back of the couch.

"G'n-ni-ght." I yawned, absently kicking of my boots and curling my feet up on the couch. I felt my body relax and my thoughts went hazy. I don't remember falling asleep.

* * *

The purring of an engine woke me. My brows drew together in confusion while I stretched out. My toes curled in their socks, hanging over the edge of a couch. I snuggled further under my blanket, pulling it over my head as I tried to muffle the familiar drone of a truck.

Someone pressed on the gas and the volume increased. The noise drew me away from the dream-like state I'd been floating in and I shifted irritably. Why was a truck in my room anyway? Had one of the twins…but no…

I squinted through the mess that had become of my hair and grunted. Prince had climbed down to rest on the arm of the couch, purring as he cleaned his paws. I flopped a hand in his direction, a poor imitation of a shooing motion. He caught it and proceeded to run his rough tongue on the back of it.

"Uck!" I scowled at him and snatched it back quickly. I pushed myself up into a sitting position and rubbed my head. A rich, low laugh from the next couch over made me blink a couple times in surprise.

_Damn. I probably look like hell. Ah, screw it. Ugh, I need to take a _real_ shower._

"Rough night?" I turned my head to look at who was talking and had to stifle a disbelieving laugh. The same guy who'd in one moment captured the heart of almost every female Hogwarts student was seated across from me. It was a good thing I wasn't inordinately vain or I'd probably have died of shame.

_I guess almost was the key word in that sentence. What was his name? All something, Allan, All—Allman! Yes you certainly are. No, don't think like that. Get up and get your ass in the shower…still, it's too bad I'm not dating._

Perching inelegantly on the edge of the couch I nodded, one hand covering a yawn. Whether it was in answer to his question or my thoughts I wasn't sure. I ran a hand though my hair and reached over for my boots.

"Some people thought you'd be trapped wondering the corridors all night with no one to lead you here or provide you with the password." He said lightly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Did they?" I had to work hard to keep the sigh out of my voice. School politics. He wanted to know if I was a threat, or if I was an ally. It was too early for this. I looked around for a clock or a window but didn't find any. I'd had to toss my watch after I'd gotten on the train. Muggle gadgets didn't work on school grounds unless they'd been tampered with; I hadn't bothered to since somebody else always knew the time.

"Seven fifteen." Tall, trim, and dead sexy supplied. I held in a sigh. I really had to stop admiring the poor guy. Well, it was early and I hadn't had any coffee yet. I nodded my thanks and stretched.

My blanket dropped to the floor and I reached down to pick it up. It was a robe. I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

"Here." Allman held out a hand, smiling. If I'd been a normal girl with normal urges, I would have leaned over and kissed him. But I wasn't so I tossed it back to him, not even trying to use it as an excuse to touch him.

"Thanks." I said courteously. I ran a hand through my hair and looked around for the hall leading to the dorms.

"The girls' rooms are that way. You're looking for one that says 'transfers'. The showers are at the very end of the hall. I'll wait here for you." I turned back around and cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Excuse me?"

"They start serving breakfast at seven forty." I stood there for a second, considering.

"Alright. Later." I left, wondering what he wanted.

Turning into the side hall I'd bypassed in the dark last night, I started to read the small silver plaques on the doors.

_Seventh years…sixth, but no transfers…fifth…third…first…ah, here we are._

The dorms were set into a smooth wall of rock that curved into the shape of a horseshoe. Pretty pale green lamps lighted the hallway, switching on and off again as I passed them. At the end of the horse shoe were the showers, before that was my room.

"Not a long walk then." I said, quietly opening the door. The room I entered was pitch black. I searched my robe pockets for my wand, slightly wrinkled and twisted from being slept in. Ifound itand quickly sketched arune over my eyes.

When I next opened them I could make out most of the objects in the rectangular room. One of the two beds was occupied. I saw my trunk resting at the foot of a large four-poster bed. I stole across the carpet and unhooked the keys from my belt. Unlocking the one containing my school bag, I silently began removing the basics. As a rule of thumb teachers usually didn't hand out detentions for being unprepared on the first day of school. They settled for public humiliation and cracked the wipe across your back on the second day if you failed to meet their standards again.

I gathered up my clothes and my bathroom bag before heading out.

* * *

"Hey." I tapped the sleeping figure on his shoulder with my wand. He started a little and his eyes darted about before settling on mine. I smirked.

"Ready?" He asked, picking up his book bag.

"Evidently." I said dryly, leaving him to stretch. He caught up with me at the door, hiding a yawn. Prince preceded us and took off after a few minutes to scamper down a side corridor.

"I must admit, that is the ugliest creature I've ever seen. Two second year girls fainted after he brushed past them to get to you last night." I made a noncommittal sound, concentrating on where we were going. I wanted to be sure I could find my way back if Prince wasn't around.

"In fact, one would wonder why your familiar was so desperate to reach you. Even from my place at the end of the table your anger was almost palpable. For a moment there I thought I actually saw little bolts of electricity jumping around your fingers." He said it with a laugh, but the sideways glance he gave me was calculating.

"You presented a very imposing figure. I was most impressed." I tried not to heave a sigh at his subtle hinting.

"Most people are." I said calmly, my eyes briefly shifting to his as we turned around our last corner.

It had been the same at the Institute. Everybody wanted to know where you stood. Who was behind who, who thought what, who had enough influence to make your life a living hell.

It was gangland America personified, only I didn't get to be Al Capone.

My mind raced as I played out all the different scenarios. I couldn't ignore this. I didn't have the security of walking away from this without some regrettable repercussions. Some of the more manipulating, scheming, back stabbing students only wanted one thing and that was power.

Besides, Hitler reincarnated had people here. I did _not_ want to call attention to myself by refusing to adapt to the system. I already had my fair share of problems, I didn't need to add 'Targeted by Fellow Students' to the list. Because that's what would happen, I would find that I tripped over nothing while walking down the hall, books would go missing, clothes would be taken, the list is endless.

I would be considered an untrustworthy outsider. I'd avoided this at the Institute by hexing the shit out of everybody. Things were different now though. I didn't know anyone here and they didn't know me. If I jinxed the wrong person I might find myself up against an entire House.

Or better yet I could accidentally hex a Death Eater's child and end up on Voldemort's Most Wanted List. I did not want to be on that list.

The rules of the game were simple. The person with most influence, a.k.a power, got to be Al Capone and those with less power got to be his minions. The goal was to work your way up to the top by any means necessary.

But if I was going to play the political game I was going to walk away as the grand prizewinner. I was going to be Al Capone, or if need be Bugs Moran. I was no man's flunky.

"Would you like to have breakfast with me?" I asked, my voice affecting a causal air.

_Or in other words: wanna be friends?_

"Certainly. That was why I waited."

_Uh-huh. And my name's Pinocchio. But are you joining me or recruiting me? That tis the question. _

We climbed the stairs in silence. The great hall was virtually empty except for a smattering of the more anxious first year students.

Allman directed me to the table on the far left and indicated that I should sit across from him.

"You're a transfer student, right?" I asked, scanning the table for the coffee pot.

"I believe you are looking for this. Yes, I transferred here from Durmstrang. I would have originally gone to Hogwarts but my father is a very—traditional man." He said carefully, taking the coffee pot back once I was through with it.

_So…?_ I bought time by taking a sip from my mug of coffee.

"My mother went to here however and used current events to persuade my father that it'd be safer for me to attend Hogwarts." I smiled wryly at him. Yes, so much safer.

Seeing my look he nodded, handing me some creamer before attending to his own mug.

"Yes, you see the irony." We sat there in silence for a while. I buttered a piece of toast and thought about where this conversation was going. Why did he feel the need to befriend me? I ate my toast and mulled over the possibilities for a while as we talked about what we knew of Hogwarts.

When I was tired of beating around the bush I gave him a pointed look. If he didn't get to the point soon I was leaving.

Sensing that I was becoming impatient, he set down his mug and leaned toward me.

"I do not want to serve He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or his Death Eaters." His voice was low and dead serious. I blinked at him.

"And I care because...?" He sat back and started to dish some eggs and bacon onto his plate.

"Because you don't either."

"Really. What makes you so sure?" I asked smoothly. He looked up at me from his plate and smiled grimly.

"Your mother." I drew back as if slapped.

"And what would you know about my mother?" I asked, my voice cold enough to brew a winter storm. Realizing that he was treading on thin ice, he rushed to explain himself.

"Your mother was a good friend of my mother's. They went to school here. Your mother died in a muggle hospital did she not?"

"Yes." I ground out. I did not appreciate someone sifting through my family history. That was my business and mine alone. It was personal and I didn't take kindly to his probing.

"Haven't you ever wondered why she wasn't taken to a _wizard_ hospital?"

"Because my father didn't know she was a witch. If he had he never would have married her. I think I've heard enough, goodbye." I snatched up my book bag and made as if to stand.

"Astrid," He grabbed my arm to prevent me from leaving.

"You presume too much, _friend._" I said harshly, jerking out of his grasp.

"Stop and listen to me damn it! Do you _want_ the Dark Lord to find you after all these years?" Well that certainly got my attention.

More people were starting to enter the great hall as the excitement of the first day of school came over them. The tables were filling up with groups of friends as they loaded their plates. Teachers had begun to filter into the room and take their seats at the high table.

Allman ran an irritated hand over his face and glanced over his shoulder. His face went taut. The pug-faced girl I'd cursed yesterday for pushing me was hanging off the arm of a pale, arrogant boy who's daddy must have money. He had the walk of someone used to being catered to and a permanent smirk of his face that shouted First Class Prick.

_Ah, this must be Malfoy. Ron was right; he does slightly resemble a ferret. Huh. Go figure._

"The pointy chinned asshole heading our way is Draco Malfoy. Presently he considers himself the Slytherin Prince and is known for throwing his father's name around. His father is a Death Eater who was recently admitted to Azkaban, though that doesn't seem to shut him up." Allman informed me.

"He managed to corner me last night and ask—uncomfortable—questions about my father's business. He currently holds most of the influence in Slytherin."

_Ah. So if I was to read in between the lines he is blackmailing you and you want my help. In return I get information. What a way to start the morning._

Allman stood up, holding out a hand to me.

"We should leave." Understanding that I wouldn't get my information here, I took his hand.

Allman let go of my hand only to snake an arm around my waist and pull me firmly against his side. I stiffened momentarily and had to resist the strong urge to knock him flat on his ass. Dead bodies are said to be tough conversationalists and any information connecting me to the Dark Lord was information I wanted to hear.

"Would you care do temporarily date me?" He breathed into my ear.

"How short is temporarily?" I could feel him laughing and I my lips quirked. We drew closer to Malfoy and his girlfriend, and I tried not to laugh at the look of outright jealousy and anger my former assailand pinned on me as she spotted Allman's arm around my waist.

_You've got to be kidding. He already has a fan club._

"You! What are you doing wearing Slytherin robes?"

"I believe I'm walking." I said flippantly.

"Ah, so this is the one responsible for Pansy's night in the hospital wing." Malfoy drawled, running his eyes over me.

_If anyone around here is a pansy it's you ferret boy._

"Meet me in the common room later tonight, Valentine, and bring your friend with you. I think you will both be interested in what I have to say. Do not forget." It was meant to serve as a warning, but it failed to impress me. Whatever the ultimatum was if we forgot I seriously doubted he would be the one dishing it out.

The boy had no tact. I watched him swagger off to the long table and wrinkled my nose as Pansy began fawning over him, though I thought it was rather defiant than sincere.

More Slytherins entered the hall and quickly took their seats around the blond haired boy. As they took their seats I could almost see the fissures that ran through Malfoy's supposedly loyal subjects. I would bet all my striped socks that a third of them were being black mailed, or threatened. The other two thirds was split in half with those who were indifferent and those who were actually willing to follow Malfoy, if only out of morbid curiosity.

Malfoy might be an easier opponent than I'd realized. The noise in the hall was steadily increasing as teachers began handing out schedules.

As we walked away past the other house tables, both of us earning speculating stares, Allman sighed.

"We are going to have to continue our conversation at a later time." I opened my mouth to ask him why when he jerked us to a standstill. Professor Snape was coming down the hall, an evil sneer on his face as he deducted thirty points from a group of third year Gryffindor boys for crowding the entrance.

Remembering that I was suppose give my Head of House my completed list of classes I called out to him.

"Professor! I was instructed to hand this in to you. I apologize for not finding you last night, I was distracted." I handed him the envelope out of my bag and stepped away from Allman, who frowned slightly but didn't object.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley will be spending two weeks of detention for his thoughtless outburst. As for your classes you will have to wait till tomorrow for your final schedule." He took the letter and tucked it into an inner robe pocket.

"You have chosen to take the newer programs have you not?" Not waiting for an answer he continued, "The Headmaster has agreed with your new defense teachers in deciding to dedicate a full day to these defense lessons for those who decided to take both classes. The first lesson is scheduled for today. You are to meet your classmates in the courtyard. I believe Mr. Weasley has only signed up for the dueling portion of the class." Professor Snape hinted, his lips twisting into a smirk.

_In other words I better wipe the floor with his face. No objections here._

"Has he. Thank you, Professor." I said, nodding to him before continuing on down the hall. I walked past the marble staircase and into the hall beyond it. Sarlow had pointed the courtyard out to me last night after asking me to meet him there for lunch sometime.

I heard Allman ask for his class schedule before jogging to catch up to me.

"Where we going?" He asked, placing his hand on the small of my back.

I pulled away, frowning at him. He gave me a bewildered look in return but said nothing.

_Not every girl likes to be fondled by you. Arrogant ass. Letting you touch me was a temporary thing._

"Class then the library." I said tersely.

"What books do you need from the library?" He asked, nodding to a very attractive Asian girl who smiled brightly at him from her place near a suit of armor. He drew closer to me but didn't try to put his hands on me. The girl shot me a miffed look and turned back to her giggling friends.

"Ugh, please." I muttered. Then, louder, "Beginner's Guide to Construction, The Art of Healing Volume One, and Dueling, the Correct Approach." He raised an eyebrow asking why. I shrugged.

"The letter came late. What classes are you taking?" I asked, spotting the courtyard entrance. He didn't need to know that I couldn't afford to purchase the books. There was still some time before class officially started at nine so I wasn't surprised to find no one there.

It was an old stone courtyard with benches and a fountain. Not too far down below I could see the surprisingly warm morning sun reflected off the lake. I set my bag on one of the benches close to the fountain and admired Hogwarts's extensive grounds.

"It is nice here isn't it? I'm taking seventh year potions, charms, and whatever else I need to study for my N.E.T.Ws. I'm also taking this class, you?" Allman sat down next to my book bag. He shrugged his off and set it down near his feet.

"Auror classes, all of their new programs, and, of course, History of Magic since it's required. Can I see your dueling book?" I asked, moving my book bag to the ground.

"Sure." He bent forward and pulled out a surprisingly thin, hard backed book with a glossy blue cover. I figured I might as well skip going to the library and risk getting caught breaking the book's Copyright Charm by the librarian.

_And be possibly expelled and pay a huge fine or face jail time. Thank you, no._

"Thanks. I'll cripple you for life if you nark on me." I told him seriously. He gave me a bemused look before nodding.

Satisfied, I studied the book for a moment, pulling out my wand and running it gently along its spine. The spine began to glow a dull orange and I carefully began the arduous process of extracting the Copyright Charm from the binding.

Allman watched me carefully for a few minutes then smiled in understanding. It didn't take very long but I almost screwed up and had to start all over when he broke my concentration by greeting another classmate. He rose smoothly and stood in front of me, blocking me from view.

Letting out a pent up breath, I quickly duplicated the book and returned them to our bags. Those Copyright Charms required a lot of concentration, power, and skill. Besides that it was a relatively easy process, if a bit tricky.

_Practice makes perfect._

"Maureen, it's good to see you again. Are you taking both classes? I heard not many people are taking the first part of it, though that could also mean that many people are going to be dropping out." Allman hinted, looking down at Maureen.

_Ouch._ I looked between the two and could tell there was no love lost. At least on Allman's part.

Maureen was an elegant brunette with sharp black eyes and a clear, bronze colored complexion. She'd been studding me carefully while Allman spoke. She hid it well but I could see the look of distaste in her eyes as she noted my short hair, washed-out clothes, pale skin, clunky boots…no I don't think she thought much of me at all.

"Hello." I said civilly. She gave me a tight smile.

I was saved the pain of an introduction by the entrance of a large group of guys. They were laughing loudly and elbowing each other. When they noticed Miss Sophistication they talked even louder, sniggering at what I had no doubt were crude comments. Maureen soaked it in, as if it were her due.

Disgusted, I reached back into my bag for the dueling book. I mentally patted myself on the back for not bringing my other books since I wouldn't be using them, one of the advantages of having an all day class.

I scanned the first couple of chapters as Allman walked over to visit with the other boys. A small circle of girls had begun to form near the center of the courtyard, over exaggerating their hand and facial gestures. I sighed heavily and got myself situated comfortably on the bench.

_Air heads._

"I've known Val for six years. We went to Durmstrang together. This may sound droll, but I think he genuinely likes you. Shocking, really. You'd think someone more delicate would be more to his taste." I glanced up from my book and saw Maureen leaning against the outer edge of the fountain, checking her nails.

She was trying to bait me. I could hear the oil in her voice as she tried to get a rise out of me. Unbelievable. She was the third girl to sprout horns of jealousy over Allman.

If she wanted him she could have him, I had better things to do than talk about Allman. I skimmed the introductory chapter to dueling.

"I've seen you somewhere before." She said a couple seconds later. I reigned in a sigh and determinedly finished a paragraph about the history of wizard duels.

I heard the sharp click of her screw-me-heels on the cold flagstones as she drew closer.

"But I can't remember where. My name is Maureen McVeigh by the way. Before you ask yes, my father is Matthew McVeigh. Why he ever named that first batch of potions after us I'll never know. The first product was my mother's idea actually."

_What in the hell is her problem? Potion? Ah, I think Tonks mentioned their hair care product line. _As I recalled it was some pretty expensive stuff. So, now she was now flashing her family's money in my face. Excellent.

"Good for you." I said sardonically. Maureen pretended not to notice my hostility, though I could hear a glimmer of satisfaction in her voice as she began chattering away about her family's newest product, a hair-replenishing potion.

I read a couple more paragraphs, repeatedly telling myself to ignore The Bitch as I was coming to think of her. I made a noncommittal sound. I'd had no idea that wizard dueling had once been a primitive form of a judicial system where one was subjected to a trail by combat.

"I know, but when I heard Val was transferring too I thought, why not? My parents were very pleased with my choice and promised to take me to Paris for Christmas. I have pictures from our last vacation there. I could show you when we get back to our room. By the way, I was wondering if you managed to find your way to bed last night. I woke up this morning and saw that you'd been there but the bed didn't look slept in. Then I saw you with Val this morning...?" She trailed off, letting me figure out the rest.

I stared pointlessly at my book for a moment before closing it with a loud _snap_.

_No way. Are you actually insinuating that I'm participating in nocturnal activities with Allman after you've flung your wealth in my face...? I might not have more money than you do but I certainly have more class._

Before I could form my thoughts into words a man with a hard, calculating glint in his eyes entered the courtyard.

I contemplated verbally beating The Bitch over the head but retrained myself. Later. I'd wait till I could really do some damage. Maureen smiled at me triumphantly before joining the gaggle of girls. If looks could kill I'd be arrested for manslaughter.

_You ass is grass Bitch._

Satisfied with later retribution, I looked back over at our Fitness Professor. He reminded me of my father with his large build, square jaw, and harsh mouth. He stopped just inside the archway, watching us.

Silence descended upon the courtyard as the man's dominating presence washed over us. I smiled to myself as I saw the apprehensive looks being exchanged between the other students.

"Line up alphabetically for roll call!" He ordered in a strong, authoritative tone. It demanded immediate results and that's what he got.

It took us eight minutes to arrange ourselves. We didn't need to be told to keep quiet.

"When you here your name say here. Abbot."

"Here." Our new professor was standing in front of us now with a clipboard and quill. He made a mark on the sheet as the blond haired girl responded.

"Allman."

"Here." Scratch.

"Boot."

"Here." Another scratch.

"Brocklehurst."

"Here."

The entire class consisted of twenty-five boys and seven girls, including me. When everyone had been marked down he introduced himself.

"I'm Professor Gooddell. Class wont begin until I am satisfied that I have weeded out the slackers. I wont waste my time teaching those who don't want to learn. Those who would like to drop this class may do so at any time. All you have to do is walk out that door. I will warn you: anyone who goes out that door will not come back." He said calmly, meeting eyes. When that sunk in he continued.

"You will all run a warm up lap around the castle everyday for homework. Out this door and at the end of the hall is a dressing room. Ladies are to the left, gentlemen to the right. Grab one of each item laid out for you on the tables."

I went back to the bench and grabbed my book bag before following the other girls into the dressing room.

There was a short hall before the room opened up. It resembled a locker room with places to hang your robes and store your book bags. Stark concrete made up the floor and walls; long wooden benches ran down the four isles serving as a barrier between the long lockers on either side. Near the very back of the room I could make out the showers.

"I thought this would be like a technique class, not a sweat shop. I can't be expected to run a lap around the castle everyday, when would I do it?" Maureen said, following me as I dropped my stuff in the nearest locker.

"Then drop out." I said unsympathetically, making for the front wall where a round table covered with stacks of neatly folded clothes had been placed. A large box of one-size-fits all shoes was sitting on the floor beside it.

_You're barking up the wrong tree._

"I think not! I signed up for this class and I am going to take it." She declared hotly. Surprised by her vehemence I looked over at her.

"Then shut the hell up." I said. The Bitch didn't hear me. She was too busy talking. I shook my head and resolved to ignore her.

"Though I'm sure you're used to this kind of labor, not all of us are so–manly." Maureen informed me, selecting a pair of tennis shoes, some sweats and a t-shirt.

I closed my eyes for a moment before doing the same and heading back to my locker. The clothes were plain, lacking any labels or slogans. They were comfortably black and easy to move about in.

"Where are the changing rooms? Hannah, do you know where we're supposed to change?" Maureen asked a pink-cheeked girl.

"No, sorry."

_Sorry? She's sorry? She shouldn't have to--! Ugh, whatever._

I placed my things on the bench. Maureen looked scandalized as I hung up my robe and began to peel off my shirt.

"I guess there aren't any dressing rooms, though you could use the shower stalls." Hannah offered. My back was to the others as I shucked my clothes. I was dimly aware of a couple scandalized gasps and hushed whispers as I pulled on the workout clothes.

"You've got to be kidding me." I muttered under my breath. And here I was thinking Europeans were parading themselves on nude beaches somewhere.

I threw my regular clothes in the locker and slammed it shut with a satisfying _bang_. The others were still awkwardly shedding their clothes or taking turns using the shower stalls as I angrily stalked out to join the boys.

"What's her problem?"

"Did you see that tattoo?"

"I can't believe she just did that. That girl has no sense of modesty. She didn't show up to bed–"

My temper slammed the locker room door shut, cutting off further comments. And people wonder why I have few friends and even fewer girl friends.

As I walked back toward the courtyard I wondered at the other girls' modesty. Hadn't they ever changed for swimming lessons or gone to a public gym? I ran a hand through my hair as I entered the courtyard. Unsurprisingly, more than half of the boys were all ready lined up and patiently waiting for everybody else.

"Astrid!" Allman called out from his place in line. I lifted my chin in greeting but ignored the beckoning gesture. He could talk to me after class if he needed to, not right now.

So. Maureen was going to drag my name through the mud before I could do it to her. Fine. Let them talk. It just gave me more reason to retaliate.

_First one that says something where I can hear it had better be able to put her words where her wand is._

I took my place near the end of the line next to a guy with hooded gray eyes.

"Hullo. I'm Blaise Zabini. You were sorted into Slytherin last night." He shook my hand firmly, nodding over to Allman.

"Your boyfriend?" I compressed my lips into a tight line before answering.

"No. An acquaintance." He arched a disbelieving eyebrow at me.

"Think I'm lying?" He shook his head, smiling slightly.

"No, of course not. He simply gave us all that impression. I was merely curious." I considered him briefly before turning my attention back to Professor Gooddell who had taken up residence by the fountain.

_Damn._ _I should never had walked out of the great hall with Allman. _

By doing so I had indicated that I was attached to him. I could kick myself for being so stupid. I should have realized, or at least have considered the possibility that I would be labeled as his girlfriend.

_Moron!_

It shouldn't really matter anyway. I didn't like him like that and that was the end of it. I'm sure someone else will screw up and be the victim of the gossip vine soon enough.

By the time everyone was dressed down I was looking forward to the day's activities. I needed to blow off some steam and exercising was looking like a good way to do that. Our first assignment was to jog to the lake edge and back repeatedly until he said stop.

"If I see you walking you will either do five pushups or loose five house points. When you get back here we will stretch before continuing on with the rest of the day's exercises. Begin on the whistle." He held his wand out and flicked it. A piercing whistle cut through the air and I joined the others in jogging down to the lake and back.

A large group of idiots started off at a sprint. I smiled a little at this. The might think they're hot shots now, but just wait until they have to climb back up the hill, and then do it all over again. It was going to be a pain in the ass.

And it was too. I hadn't realized how out of shape I was until I started jogging back up the hill for the fourth time. My breaths were more ragged and steadily increasing in volume. My legs had to pump harder, warming up muscles I hadn't used since I'd cancelled my gym membership in the states when I came to England.

I'd passed up the greater part of the class and was competing for the first with three other guys. Allman wasn't one of them. Sweat beaded on my forehead and upper lip, trickling down my face. My shirt was sticking to my back.

"Keep it up! Don't stop. Ladies at the back, pick it up!" The professor bellowed from the top of the hill. He'd already had to deduct thirty house points for walkers.

"Hey—what's that?" The guy running next to me panted. The other guy, who happened to be Zabini, was just behind us riding our heels. He nodded at something to the right of us and I turned to look. I felt the blood drain away from my face.

"Shit." My body muscles bunch up as I prepared to gun it.

A large group of students had been huddling around the lantern man from the platform a couple hundred yards away. He'd been cautiously stroking a rather large, feathery creature. A creature shaped roughly like a horse.

I saw the hippogriff stick its hooked beak in the air, brilliant orange eyes flashing. Before the giant could blink it jerked the chain from around its neck out of his hands and charged through the circle of students.

Not bothering to see which way it was headed I bolted for the courtyard. Fear gave me wings as I flew up the hill. I hurtled over the ledge, not wanting to shove past Professor Gooddell who was blocking the courtyard entrance. Startled yells behind me told me to hurry my ass up and I poured all I had into running.

I dodged past the teacher and skidded through the archway, turning towards the great hall. If my brain would have been working properly I would have dove for the nearest room, but anxiety and adrenaline had cut off the blood circulation to my brain, sending it to my leg muscles instead.

With the great hall doors in my sight I focused on reaching them at all costs. I'd just made it to the bottom of the marble staircase when the sound of hooves and deadly talons against stone reached my ears. My stomach dropped and my heart leapt up in my throat.

"_Impedimenta_!" Someone bellowed behind me. "_Stupefy_! _Impedimenta_!"

I chanced a glance over my shoulder and saw Professor Gooddell trying to distract the hippogriff. The spells were bouncing off, sending a few feathers flying. It didn't even turn around to look at him which was strange for such a vain creature.

I sprinted through the door and made a pulling motion with my hands as I concentrated on slamming the huge doors of the great hall shut. They didn't budge. I swore and dove under the nearest table as the madly squawking monster lunged for me.

I scrambled under the table on my hands and knees, telling myself to just keep moving.

"_Conjunctivtis_!" The hippogriff's outraged screech made me clap my hands over my ears.

"MOVE!" I moved. Huge grasping claws tore at the place underneath the table where I'd been not seconds ago. My breathing was ragged and my throat felt raw. I could see the end of the table coming up and I looked around for the bird. Shouting near the door caught my attention and I pressed my face to the cool stone floor. Several pairs of wizard feet, a gigantic pair of boots, and the feet of both a horse and an eagle near the door made sigh in relief. They'd caught it.

Relief washed through me making me weak with joy. I could feel my body shaking as a result of the energy I'd spent running for my life. My bones felt like jell-O.

Absolutely exhausted, I reached the end of the table and gave the room a cursory glance. I stood up to rest in one of the chairs while Professor Gooddell, several Aurors, and a small giant wrestled with the small blue hippogriff.

_Huh. Funny. I thought it was more of a blueish color._

Just as I was completing that thought a set of half foot long talons sunk themselves into my back. I choked on a scream and wrenched myself sideways as primal instincts kicked in.

I hit the floor with a wet _thwap_ and scrambled under a nearby table. My brain went kind of fuzzy and I had to take a moment to adjust to the pain.

My back felt like it was on fire. I began to panic, my mind buzzing with hysterical gibberish as I laid there under the table. Taking deep breaths to keep from passing out, I go to my knees. There was a earsplitting screech before the chairs on my left were ripped apart. The blinded red hippogriff was tearing mercilessly under the table trying to reach me. I rolled to the side and dodge it's cruel beak as it lunged for me. I knocked aside a couple chairs and clamored out from underneath the table, getting to my feet.

I stumbled away from the enraged animal and made a run for it only to be tackled to the ground by an Auror. My head hit the edge of a chair with a dull _thwack _and I went out like a light.

* * *

I woke up fifteen minutes later in the hospital wing with a harassed witch in a nurse's outfit leaning over me demanding that I restrain my cat.

* * *

**(A/N)**

**Happy Fourth of July.**

**The long lost family members have left and I am now updating. **

**The reason it took two weeks since my warning was because right after the long lost family members left my parents decided to go camping. For a week. I am burnt, tired, and have worked diligently all day (and night for it's five in the morning) to give you Chapter 11.**

**Beware of minute changes is this chapter (Example: I found out class actually starts at nine not eight). I printed it off and fixed it while I was camping so some of it might be...unorganized. Review me if you have opinions on where it could be changed.**

**Burnt to a crisp, the author.**

**PS: I'd like to thank the reviewers who have responded to my story. I initially didn't want to encourage people to overload my email account but now I am finding that the reviews are actually helpful. They also motivate me to work harder. **

**Originally I didn't think that many people were going to be interested in my story so I took my sweet time fixing and fiddling with the chapters.**

**The bottom line is: if you want me to hurry my ass up send me a review. They tend to give me a heads up that I'm falling behind.**

**(I will also grudgingly admit that I like reading reviews, either for their questions or their comments. Both force me to sit back and think about how I could respond to such comments and questions through my story.)**

**If anyone has certain ideas or events that they think should be included in my story please tell me. I have my own ideas but my ideas aren't always great. I want to know what people want to read about so I can include that in my story. If you don't tell me what you want I can't give it to you.**

**Again thank you for reviewing, the author**


	12. Game Time

"**Here you are all equally worthless." – My mother **

* * *

**Chapter 12 **

"Wizbamwaworn, reeswain wurack!"

The words were garbled like someone was trying to talk to me while my head was underwater. My head lolled as I stared blankly up at the nurse, my brain unable to formulate a coherent response besides primitive grunts expressing profound agony.

My head hurt like a sum bitch. It throbbed painfully to what might have been Jingle Bells, but I was too out of it to really pay attention. Communication between the slightly blurred image of the obviously pissed nurse and myself was impossible and I wondered why in the hell she was even trying to talk to me. Couldn't she see I was in pain?

The witch's lips pursed together in frustration as she did something funny with her wand.

The throbbing eased off a bit and my head became marginally clearer. I groaned in relief, then gasped as I became aware of the condition my back was in. And let me tell you, bad doesn't begin to describe it.

"Miss Vanderhorn, restrain your cat before he does further damage to the door." I hissed through my teeth and glared at her. She wanted me to do what?

_Thunk...Thunk...Crack! _

"Now, Miss Vanderhorn."

_Thunk...Thunk...Thunk...The unmistakable sound of someone trying to beat down a door dimly registered in my mind and I blinked at her._

_Oh. _

"Righ'." I slurred slightly. "Prince, stop! Stop, whooa." I'd tried to sit up but a rush of dumbfounding pain made me rethink that course of action.

"Ahhh." I squeezed my eyes shut as I fought to master my misery. I could feel tears leaking out of the corners of my eyes and I screwed up my face in an effort to stop them. My back hurt. My legs hurt, my head hurt, shit my whole body hurt.

"Drink." A cup was shoved in my face and I knocked it back without a second thought. I gasped, first in disgust and then in pain. I dry heaved as my body responded in kind.

"Ack! Oh, shit. Shit that's foul. Bleh." I exclaimed quietly, my voice hoarse. Gagging made my head and back hurt worse and I determinedly clamped my mouth shut. I felt the nurse prodding me with her wand as she checked me for other injuries.

"Alright, I need you to sit up. Your internal organs seem to be fine, but I need to clean those puncture wounds. I'll do what I can but there might be some faint scarring." I sucked in air as the sheets stuck to my back were gently peeled off.

_Yeah, like I give a rat's ass! Just give me some damn pain medication you old hag! _

It was the weirdest sensation feeling her actually pull something out of my back...I felt the blood drain from my face and my vision went hazy. White spots danced before my eyes and my ears plugged up, muting all sounds. My eyes drooped and I swayed a little.

"Oh no you don't." I heard a faint pop and then my head jerked back as if the bitch had driven a stake through my nose and into my brain. My eyes watered and I put my hands to my face to rub my nose, cursing fluently.

"What in the hell! Am I not in enough pain for your sadistic ass? Friggin' A."

"It's the equivalent of muggle smelling salts, no need to panic. Now, just lie down on your stomach so I can examine your back. You're going to be fine, Miss Vanderhorn."

_How about you let me drive a nail up your nose and then we'll see who's fine. _

Despite my resentment, I fumbled onto my stomach, with the nurse's help, and clenched my fists as I felt her remove what was left of my mangled shirt. Slowly, and methodically she began cleaning the long gashes before gently applying a thick white paste over the wounds. I tensed and relaxed periodically as she tended to me.

"This will take twenty minutes to dry and then I will finish up with a Mending Charm. The blood-replenishing potion you took should help. Do not move from this spot. I'm afraid you have a minor concussion so you'll need to take this..." After downing another absolutely foul, goopy concoction the nurse bustled off to her office.

Grunting, I lifted my head up off the bed from where I'd sought refuge. Moving my head about I made sure I kept my body absolutely still. I knew from past experience that nurses were vicious gorgons when it came to their patients. If I so much as twitched without her permission she would come storming into the room and shove another foul, sticky, viscous substance down my throat.

Mrs. Gem, the Institute's nurse, had been real fond of horrible placebo potions she would occasionally administer to her more wayward or disagreeable patients. The potions of course served no other purpose but to discourage students to skip class and disobey her explicit instructions. I had a feeling Madam Pomfrey (she'd introduced herself while applying the paste) was the same.

_Speaking of the devil... _

"Miss Vanderhorn, are you aware that according to this report I received from the Salem Witches Institute, that you visited the school nurse, a certain Mrs. Gem, nearly two days a week, every week? For the past five years?" Madam Pomfrey had come barreling out of her office brandishing what I assumed was my medical file.

"No I had absolutely no idea." I said sarcastically. Her frowned at me and I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am very well aware of that, Madam Pomfrey." She consulted my file once more in horrified amazement. Glancing over at me she almost look terrified.

"She's worse than Potter."

"I resent that." She glared at me before summoning up a stool next to my bed. I watched her face scrunch up in grim resignation as her eyes scanned the various reasons for my hospital visits. Then her eyes stopped and I could have sworn she smiled.

"Dare I ask exactly how you came to be infected with a severe case of Nymphomania?" I blushed to the roots of my hair so violently I swore the sheets smoldered from the heat.

I groaned and hid my face in the bed. Nymphomania refers to a state where a girl...where a woman feels suddenly and inextricably compelled to demand sexual intercourse irrespective of the time, place, or situation at hand. This can, of course, be contracted from nymphs.

_I am glad, so glad I'll never have to take that damn animal class again. _

"Honestly, I don't know why...American witches...I cannot believe they..." Madam Pomfrey was in her own little world as she flipped through my file. I agreed with her whole heartedly.

Loud voices in the hall caught my attention. Madam Pomfrey stood and marched over to the door.

"What is going–" The door flew open and three men walked into the room nearly bowling over Madam Pomfrey, which is saying something about how distracted they were.

One of the men was wearing the crisp robes of a Gringotts associate while the other two were wearing the robes of Aurors. The one on the left was Sarlow.

"No, I'm afraid this cannot wait! Miss Vanderhorn must be informed immediately." The associate stated firmly, side stepping Madam Pomfrey.

"Really! This is unacceptable and I will not allow you to speak to Miss Vanderhorn in her current condition!" All three men took a good look at me and blinked.

I smiled humorlessly at them from where I was laying on my stomach, arms folded under my chin. I wasn't entirely presentable at the moment. I was only clad in sweats and white paste after all.

I glanced over at Sarlow and saw that his mouth was open. I arched an eyebrow at him and caught his eyes. He flushed as he quickly averted his gaze, practically running to hold the door open as the other man pointedly escorted the frazzled Gringotts associate into the hall.

"I almost feel insulted." I said wryly. Madam Pomfrey didn't hear me. She was too busy making shooing motions at Prince who must have taken advantage of the unexpected visit to dart through the door.

"I believe it's been twenty minutes now, Madam Pomfrey. I wouldn't do that if I were you; I'd just leave him alone. He wont bother anything and I assure you that despite his grotesque appearance he is quite clean." Realizing she was fighting a losing battle, Madam Pomfrey returned the broom she's summoned to its corner.

"Very well." She pursed her lips and reclaimed her stool, shooting black looks at both the door and Prince.

Fifteen minutes later I was pulling a delightfully clean hospital gown over my head. I'd just cleaned the bloodstains from my sweats when the hospital door opened.

"Miss Vanderhorn?" I silenced an irritated sigh. Reaching for the curtains around my bed I yanked them open. The man from Gringotts was standing near the door. Madam Pomfrey sniffed loudly in disapproval.

"Yes?" What in the hell could this man possibly have to say to me that was so damn important? I raised my eyebrows and folded my arms across my chest.

"Miss Vanderhorn, I'm Farris Wheels and I have been sent here with explicate instructions to inform you–" He stopped abruptly and looked over at Madam Pomfrey. She gave him a withering look.

"Madam, could you please excuse us? The information I have been entrusted with is only to be shared with Miss Vanderhorn."

Grumbling, Madam Pomfrey retreated to her office, slamming the door behind her. I gave Prince an amused look. It was easy to forget that adults were sometimes no more that overgrown children.

I reached for the cup of water on my nightstand as he nodded to himself and began again.

"I have been sent here with explicate instructions to inform you that as of ten forty three yesterday morning you have come into the late Mr. and Mrs. Sweetblood's estate. However, certain documented terms must be met before you may collect your inheritance. They must be met before ten forty three today."

The cup I was holding went crashing to the floor. If it hadn't of been attached to my head my jaw would be laying next to it.

_Inheritance?_

"Ten forty three?" I asked when I'd recovered from my initial shock. I'd inherited an estate, as in a house?

"The precise time of your birth. You are given only thirty-six hours in which to meet the terms of the Will before it becomes void and passes over to another. I have brought the appropriate documents with me if you wish to for fill the conditions listed here." He handed me a folded piece of parchment.

**Residuary Clause:**

_**I, Astrid Gryphon Sweetblood-Vanderhorn, give, devise, and bequeath all of the rest, residue, and remainder of my estate, of whatever kind and character, and wherever located, to my children, those with magical ability, per share, but if any child predeceases me, then his or her share will pass, per share, to his or her lineal descendants, natural or adopted, if any, who survive me should all of the following conditions, terms, be met:**_

_**  
That my beneficiary, or beneficiaries adopt the name Sweetblood as their own.  
That my beneficiary, or beneficiaries produce, in time, an heir of his or her own blood so as to ensure the continuance of the Sweetblood line.  
That my beneficiary, or beneficiaries full fill all terms within thirty-six hours of their coming of age.**_

_**  
However, if none of my named children survives me or leaves a lineal descendant who survives me, then according to the order of succession, I name Marian Blodwen Allman and Bridget Anna Somerlad as my beneficiaries.**_

"What time is it now?" I asked sharply.

"You have sixteen minutes and–" My heart was fluttering with excitement and I felt short of breath. My mother's Will. My mother's name.

"Where are the documents? Do you have a quill?" I asked, interrupting him. He pulled out a short stack of official looking documents and handed me an eagle-feathered quill.

I quickly scanned every page as a precaution before signing. Most were all contracts of agreement that I would uphold the terms stated in the will. The others were the papers I had to sign to officially adopt the Sweetblood name as my own. Using the nightstand I wrote my signature as directed, confidently scrawling my name along the bottoms of the regal looking pieces of parchment.

Relief swept through me as I signed the last of the documents securing my inheritance.

"Astrid Gryphon Sweetblood. Astrid Gryphon Vanderhorn. Astrid Gryphon Vanderhorn-Sweetblood." I said, trying it out.

"From here on out any formal documents must be signed as Astrid Gryphon Sweetblood. If you want to however, you may keep your former surname as an alias." He informed me.

I considered dropping my father's name for a moment but…if I did that it would be almost as if he'd never existed.

_And that's a bad thing? I squelched the thought. There was no way I could do that, even if he had been a mean bastard._

"Alright I'll do that. And do appreciate your persistence and foresight in bringing me those documents, Mr. Wheel." I said politely, clearing my throat as I tried to shake off the intense, out of the blue pang of guilt I'd felt.

"My pleasure Miss Sweetblood. Now I am to give you this so you may visit your new estate at your earliest convenience. This portkey will activate whenever you so desire. To activate it you simply have to hold it and repeat the words written on the slip of parchment inside." Mr. Wheel reached into an inner breast pocket and pulled out a crisp white envelope.

"Thank you." I said taking the envelope.

"It was a pleasure, Miss Sweetblood. Good day." He left without another word and I sat on the edge of my bed, curious. There was a heavy lump of something inside the envelope. I opened it and tilted it so the heavy object fell into the palm of my hand.

It was a large, grayish ring. I held it up to my eyes and saw that at least four different rings hand been woven together in a single endless circle. I ran the tips of my fingers around the smooth, elegantly twisted bands, admiring the workmanship. The way the gray metal caught the light reminded me of an oyster shell or the rainbow one can see in a parking lot puddle.

"Beautiful." I said simply, bouncing it up and down in my palm. I tried it on and was pleased to see that it fitted my right thumb perfectly.

I looked in the envelope for the slip Mr. Wheel had mentioned. Sure enough it was there.

_**Home sweet home. **_

"How appropriate."

"Merrow." Prince said, jumping up on the bed. I tugged on one of his ears playfully.

"Well we'd better high tail it outta here before Pomfrey come's back. She know's Mr. Wheel left so we don't have much time." I looked around for my shoes and tugged them on before jogging towards the door.

"Once I touch the door handle she'll know we're trying to leave. All nurses have a thing about Awareness Charms. I wouldn't put it past her to have one on the threshold too for those smart enough to will the door open so that means we're just going to have to--run for it!" I said, seeing the office door begin to swing open.

I tore the door open and dashed through it. I pounded down the hall, Prince leading the way. I smiled when I heard Pomfrey shout my name but I'd already turned the corner and headed down a flight of stairs. My grin quickly vanished as the staircase began to move.

"Wow!" I grabbed onto the rail and waited for the staircase to resettle itself before taking off again, following Prince, if a bit more warily. He led me down another flight of steps, through a secret passageway, then down some more steps.

That's all Hogwarts seemed to be made of, I thought moodily, hidden corridors and staircases.

I slowed down to a fast walk and followed Prince back to the entrance hall. At the top of the marble staircase I sat tiredly on the banister. Prince came back up the steps and rubbed against my ankle.

"Yeah, just give me a minute. I need to–I need to think." I stared down at the expansive floor and rested. I was tired. That little bout with the hippogriff had taken a lot outta me. Did I really want to go back to class? I sighed.

_No. _

"Little late for that now though, huh? Alright, let's go." I stood and followed Prince down the remainder of the stairs and left down the Defense Corridor. I'd have to change before I went back to class. I walked past the courtyard and saw that Professor Gooddell must have moved everyone into one of the classrooms.

"Alright Your Majesty, I'll see you later tonight." I bent down and patted Prince on the head before he loped off.

Once I had changed and tossed the gown in the clothing bin, I began to check the classrooms. The first thing I noticed was that all the doors were identical with matching doorknobs and panels. The second thing I noticed was that no sound could be heard from behind any of them. Somehow I doubted those two thing were a coincidence.

I tried the first door. It was locked. I tired the others only to find that all of them were locked. None of the elementary unlocking charms, nor the more advanced spells worked.

"Okay." I said, thinking. I stood in the middle of the hall and looked carefully at the doors this time. The one nearest the locker room had more pronounced knots in its panels than the others.

Why would these knots be so distinguishable from the wood unless they were meant to be noticed?

I strode forward to examine it more closely, my forehead creased in concentration. What would _I _do with these knots?

If it were me I'd probably use the knots as a way of locking the door and just insert a password...using the knots?

_Maybe...I thought dubiously._

It would be a five letter word–or perhaps a phrase.

_Try the obvious first. _

I pressed one finger to the first of the five knots, concentrating.

"Defense." I pressed on the next one, "Against. The. Dark. Arts." One word for each knot.

Nothing happened.

"Hmm...The. Physical. Fitness. Training. Classroom." A loud click and the door popped open all on its own. I smiled in satisfaction.

It'd been a simple puzzle. But why? I shrugged and pulled the black metal doorknob towards me to fully open the door.

The room inside was immense, almost reminding me of a large school gym. Rectangular enchanted windows were placed along the vast white washed walls. The floor was covered with thick blue mats. A raised bar I recognized as a balance beam ran down the middle of the room. I cocked an eyebrow. When on earth would we be using that?

On the other far side of the room along the back wall were some bleachers set up like the sloping presentation desks you find in a muggle college. Sitting at the desks were my fellow students being addressed by a thin, energetic, balding man with hair like Einstein's.

"Miss Vanderhorn I presume. Please come and join us!" He called out in a high, nasal voice.

I must have missed break and the first half of second period. Professor Snape did say I'd have defense teachers not teach_er_.

I walked the length of the gymnasium quickly, giving the instructor a closed lip smile as I slid into the nearest space available: the first seat in the front row.

"Good. Now, the mannequins will only be set to perform mild Stinging Hexes so there will be no talk about visiting the hospital wing. They will start out slowly and gradually increase the speed at which they fire the hexes as you go. Make sure you are within at least ten feet of your mannequin. And remember, once you get hit the mannequin will automatically return to the original speed." The instructor said, his white hair standing straight up as he paced in front of the students, gesturing meaningfully with his hands.

"Go. I'll be monitoring you and your designated partner, checking to see that you are using the dodges and rolls we practiced earlier. Miss Vanderhorn, if you will come here for a moment."

The class split up into pairs and settled themselves along the right wall were several human sized dolls I had failed to notice when I came in. They looked a lot like crash test dummies.

My chest tightened again as I thought of my dad crushed in the three car pile up. Ruthlessly shoving that thought away I stood up and walked over to my second period professor.

"I'm Professor Emrys. I'll be teaching you certain evasion and defensive techniques. By the way, twenty points to your house for opening the door." I blinked. The corners of his pale eyes crinkled into a smile.

"Out of the entire class you were the only one able to find and open the classroom door, making every single one of them late to class." He paused to tell the class to get moving.  
"I'm also wondering why you are even here, Miss Vanderhorn. I was informed that you would be spending the rest of the day in the hospital wing."

"Really. Interesting." I said, holding his knowing gaze.

"Isn't it. Well I'm afraid you missed the first part of the lesson so you may either give the mannequins a go or watch the others as there are only a few minutes of class left. I will expect you to work with a classmate sometime this week on what you missed."

"You did mention something about partners, sir?" I asked while I watched the others. Only a hand full of them were putting any true effort into what I recognized as an agility exercise. The others were either standing off to the side of their dummies, watching and laughing as their classmates were hit with the Stinging Hexes.

The pink-cheeked girl who'd spinelessly apologized to The Bitch was doing fairly well. I nodded slightly when she chose to turn slightly instead of going into a full-fledged dodge that would open her up for another hex. I turned my head a little in protest of her next move. Sure enough a small yelp resulted from a poorly anticipated hex.

Realizing the Professor hadn't answered my question I shot him a questioning sideways glace. He'd been watching me carefully while I'd been studying the efforts of the girl. He was beaming happily at me.

"I see you are familiar with this type of training, Miss Vanderhorn. Would you mind demonstrating what you know for me on the mannequin on the far end there?" Professor Emrys asked, leading me to the very last crash test dummy.

I shrugged.

"Alright." Everyone else was too busy screwing around anyway so I didn't have to worry about being watched. Nobody likes to be jeered at while they're trying to concentrate.

I placed myself ten feet away from the dummy and took a ready stance.

"Engage." Professor Emrys said. The crash dummy lifted a twig posing as a wand and fired the first hex.

I stepped lightly to the left, easily dodging it. It fired off the next hex and I stepped to the right, back to my original position. The dummy launched another hex though this time instead of aiming for my chest, it aimed at my head. Having seen the body movements signaling the move I ducked.

As the pace eventually sped up I discovered the pattern. After every two shots the dummy would increase the sped at which it fired the hex. Where it aimed at appeared to be random though I figured there was a set pattern. Not wanting to assume too much and pay for it later I let myself react and anticipate on what I observed.

It was a bit harder with a dummy because it didn't have muscles. Usually one could tell when and where the opponent was going to fire by watching how their body moved. Since the dummy was stationary I only worried about its arm movement.

A particularly quick hex zoomed past my ear and I smiled. Now this was more like it. I spun out of the way as the dummy fired off another hex only to leaned backward and jump as the tempo of the game increased impressively. There was no more room for thinking, only anticipating and reacting.

Sweat gathered on my brow as I twisted and turned, ducked and dodged out of the way. I continued to keep my evasive maneuvers simple knowing that the more I moved, the more I was opening myself up. My body, already drained from earlier was starting to wear and the quicker, less energy consuming movements became almost impossible.

I had to throw myself sideways and roll before vaulting to my feet again to leap sideways as the speed of the dummy's hexes shot to an all time high.

"Shit." I panted. This was getting to be a bit much. I jumped and then dropped to the floor as multiple hexes shot over my head. On my stomach I feigned a roll to the right.

Taking advantage of the situation the mannequin fired off a strand of hexes at me. I quickly jerked to a stop as the dummy tossed a hex in front of me. I made to get up only to fall back to the floor as more hexes buzzed past my nose.

My sides were heaving a bit as I drew my legs over my head and used my arms to flip myself into a crouch. I tilted my head left and then right as two hexes flew past them before swaying to the right and dropping to the floor again.

My breathing became strained and the muscles in my back that had been clawed by the hippogriff grew stiff. I looked up at the dummy from the flat of my back and saw him flick his fake wrist towards my legs. I used my arms to push myself backwards. The plastic bastard forced me to spread my legs apart as he shot at them and I gasped as the muscles in my back began to cramp up in protest to more movement.

"Disengage!"

I closed my eyes and bit hard on my lower lip, trying not to move or breath should I cause myself more pain. I felt my muscles slowly relax and I let out an unsteady sigh. Applause and open laughter reached my ears and I frowned, looking up over my shoulder.

The entire class had gathered around my area at a respectable distance to watch me. I grunted.

_Figures._

"That's one way to get a witch to spread her legs!" Loud laughter filled the gym. I gave the ceiling a martyred look.

"Class dismissed! Your homework is to meet up with your partner and practice dodging each other's hexes. See you all on Monday! Professor Crownheart will be waiting for you in the room across the hall after lunch."

Feeling a bit weak-kneed I sat up and took my time getting to my feet. I should have stayed in the hospital wing.

A hand stuck itself in front of me and I grudgingly took it.

"Thanks." I said tersely.

Standing up I saw that the owner of the offered hand was Allman. I smiled thinly before dropping his hand and heading towards the bleachers and gathering up my things.

"I've never seen anybody move so fast. You almost outran that hippogriff."

_I did out run it you dick. _

"Get the hell away from me Allman. I'm not in the mood for your political bullshit." I said waving my hand at him over my shoulder as slowly made my way across the gym floor. I saw him stiffen out of the corner of my eye. I closed my eyes, wishing for patience.

"Look, it's been a rough morning. I mean it's only...?"

"Eleven twenty." He supplied.

"Eleven twenty and already I'm having a bad day. Let's talk business some other time, alright?" Tired, hungry, and impatient to be gone I opened the door to the hallway and headed for the locker room.

"Astrid," He grabbed my arm. I went to brush him off and he tightened his grip.

Without really thinking about it I cocked back my arm and punched the arrogant ass just below his sternum. He gasped and doubled over.

"Ah, bloody hell..." He groaned as he held his stomach. Annoyed with myself I sighed.

"Damn it, if you'd just keep your hands to yourself…I didn't mean to hit you, it's a reflex. Look, I'll talk to you later." I said irritably before opening the door to the girl's locker room.

Guffawing and half-hearted condolences filled the hall.

"Do you need to go the hospital wing, mate?"

"We know who carries the purse in that relationship!"

"Maybe you two should see a counselor."

_Boys._

Letting the door swing shut on its own accord, I went over to my locker. The rest of the girls were already in or waiting for the stalled showers. I considered showering for a moment before shrugging. Why not? I grabbed up another set of workout clothes and headed for the open showers. There were more of them and the facilities were probably better anyway.

The open showers consisted of several silver knobs and dials fixed onto the back wall. There was also an island of sorts were you could put your clothes and towels. I ignored the incredulous murmurs and dropped my clothes on the island. The towels were stacked on a shelf nearby. I snagged one of the larger ones.

I might not be shy, but that didn't mean I was going to parade myself in front of the others. Quickly, I set my used clothes on the floor next to the island and threw my more personal garments under the water, using the Cleaning Charm on them like I had the night before. I set them up under a tall dryer I assumed was supposed to be for hair.

Once I'd found the right knobs that produced soap I gave myself a quick, superficial scrub. I tried to be as fast as I could and I yanked the towel around me when I was done.

The locker room became uncomfortably quiet. I kept my eyes on what I was doing and pulled my clothes on with a faked indifference. Why couldn't these girls just be normal? They acted like I was committing some kind of Cardinal Sin.

"Hey...are–are you alright?" I turned around after having pulled on my shirt and saw the girl who'd done pretty well with the dummies fidgeting nervously.

"Yes. Can I help you?" I asked coolly. She opened her mouth a couple times, glancing down at her hands and playing with her shirt.

"No, I just, well–I–I couldn't help but notice that you have a lot of scares on your back that weren't there this morning, so I was just wondering if you were, well, if you were okay." She finished lamely.

"I'm fine thanks." I gathered up my used clothes and tossed them in the clothing bin. When I glanced behind me I saw that she was still standing there. She gave me an uncertain smile.

I paused for a moment, staring at her as I decided whether or not to blow her off. She shifted awkwardly, glancing behind her at her friends.

"Nice job today. Next time make sure you focus on using as less energy as possible instead of throwing everything into it so you tire out after the first six shots."

* * *

As I walked down the hall toward the great hall I thought about what the girl had said. I usually made a habit of never mentioning or even thinking about the scares I had on my shoulders, my sides, my arms...in my second year at the Institute I'd spent hours pouring over books in the library looking for something, anything, that would heal scares.

My bathroom bag held three different jars of spelled concealment ointment that I applied to the more noticeable marks. Luckily I didn't have many that were too obvious, but there were enough to make me feel a bit self-conscious. None of them were really noticeable unless I pointed them out, thanks to Mrs. Gem and some special healing cream for scares she'd prescribed to me.

Was my back really so bad? I recalled the uncomfortable silence and sighed. I'd have to consult the library later and see if I couldn't find the recipe for that scare potion.

"Give it back! Leave me alone!" My eyes flickered around the hall for the source of the small voice. Near the steps leading to the dungeons I saw three fifth year boys taunting two small first year girls. One of which had big brown eyes and a head full of curls.

_Leslie._

Sighing, I pulled out my wand and hit the bullies with a favorite spell that I used for such nonsense as I walked past.

_Pepullimaximus. _

The three boys cried out in surprise and dropped whatever it was they had taken. I smirked as they held their faces, one of them actually crying a little. If you can't take what you dish out...

"Miss Vanderhorn!"

_Damn. _

"Thirty points from Slytherin for using magic on other students. That is unacceptable behavior." Professor McGonagall was descending the stairs, no doubt oblivious that the boys had been asking for it. If she wasn't, to hell with it.

Shrugging, I continued on toward the great hall.

"But Aunt Mini–" I heard Leslie start. McGonagall silenced her with a look and I chuckled. Aunt Mini? McGonagall's hard eyes fixed on me and I gave her an amused smile as I passed the bottom of the stairs.

Lunch smelled wonderful. I headed for the table on the far left, the Slytherin table, and took the nearest empty seat. A bossy third year girl with heavily painted lids across from me, glared.

"That seat is taken."

"So observant." I drawled, pulling a plate of roast beef sandwiches towards me.

"I meant that somebody else is already sitting there. Could you move your American ass and find another seat?"

"Watch your mouth, and the answer to your question is no. Your friend can meet up with you later or find another place to sit." I said frankly without taking my eyes off my sandwich.

Her face turned a nasty shade of red and I gave her a falsely sweet smile before turning my attention to the other occupants of the table. Compared to the other students the Slytherins were quiet. Watching them over the rim of my goblet I noticed the invisible, but very substantial rift between them and the other houses. I saw looks of distaste, hatred, and mistrust thrown this way and the emotion behind them made me raise my eyebrows.

The split puzzled me. I examined the tables more closely and leaned forward on my elbows, brows drawn together. Around the great hall there were several groups of students clustered around newspapers. Every once in a while they'd sit back and glare over their shoulders at the Slytherin table, muttering darkly.

"Over there near the end of the table. The one that outran the hippogriffs this morning."

"_She_ slept with Allman?" The words drifted down to me and I held in a sigh and picked up another sandwich.

I'd really have to get Maureen something nice for Christmas. Something she'd remember till the day she died; if life was fair that would be fairly soon.

"Miss Vanderhorn." I looked over my shoulder to see that Professor Snape had stopped behind me. I nodded my head respectfully and turned to face him as I swallowed the food in my mouth. He held out what looked like an ID card and what I guessed to be my class schedule.

"Thank you, sir." He nodded slightly before gliding over to the staff table.

The ID card was actually a Student-Worker pass for Hogsmeade. It was silver and had information such as my name, house, and grade printed across the front of it. A miniature photo of me rolled its eyes in a bored fashion before walking out of the frame. Smiling, I flipped it over and saw some regulation rules written on the back in loopy, emerald green handwriting.

_**This card is an official identification and should be carried by working students at all times while outside the castle.**_

_**1. Working students must:**__**  
Maintain Acceptable grades in all classes.  
Check in and out of the castle with Mr. Filch.  
Be back within the castle grounds before curfew.**_

_**2. Working students must provide this card when requested by any member of the school or Hogsmead officials.**_

_**3. Any other person than the designated may not use this card hereon. Otherwise, it will be taken from the bearer and appropriate punishment shall be administered.**_

_**4. Report the loss of this card immediately to the Deputy Headmistress's office. **_

"Huh." Shrugging, I pocketed it and glanced over my schedule.

Defense classes Monday, Charms and Healing tomorrow, Potions and History Wednesday...it looked like I'd get fourth period free every day except on Mondays. Construction was a two-hour class on Saturday and Sunday from ten to twelve.

_Great._

If they were cutting the classes short that just meant they were making time for homework. I took one last bite of my sandwich and got up from the table to head for class. Perhaps I could take a short nap before the lesson started.

Students were milling around everywhere as they finished their lunch. I could feel several pairs of eyes on me as I crossed the great hall. I caught snatches of the conversations going on around me and snorted in disbelief.

"Her and Allman are apparently engaged…"

"…Fought off five of Hagrid's hippogriffs, didn't even use her wand…"

"I heard she has scars all over her body …"

"Cursed that slut Pansy just because she felt like it she said…"

"…America. Weasley says she's a spy for You-Know-Who…"

My ears perked up at that one. So now Ron was saying that I worked for the Dark Lord. Had he eaten paint chips as a child? The rumors weren't so much surprising as they were pathetic.

"Morons." I muttered walking out the doors.

"Astrid! Astrid wait!" I glanced over my shoulder only to see Leslie running over to me. A dark skinned girl with her hair pulled back in a severe ponytail followed her closely. I hurried my steps and tried to beat them out the doors.

"What?" I asked finally as they planted themselves in front of me, blocking the doorway.

"We heard what happened, are you alright?" Leslie squeaked, looking up at me anxiously.

"My brother said you out ran not one, but two hippogriffs only to show up for class later and do better than everyone on the evasion exercises." The taller of the two girls said with a grudging amount of respect. I eyed her for a moment before glancing over at her babbling friend.

"—And they said you have scars all over your back from the attack.They said you almost _died_!" Leslie finished dramatically, her eyes bigger than ever. Her friend rolled her eyes.

"I appreciate you concern, but I have to go." I said stepping around them to get to the door.

"But class doesn't start till one! Astrid!" I waved a hand at them over my shoulder but didn't say anything as I crossed the entrance hall.

Other students were making their way form the great hall to the courtyard, providing ample cover from the two first year girls. As I waded through the crowd of students I thought about what I'd heard about Hogwarts at Number 12. None of them had spoken well of Slytherin, referring to it only in derogatory terms.

_Murderers belong with murderers. _

Ron's voice said scathingly as the memory of last night came to the fore. I shook my head. That must be the reason for all the hostility towards Slytherin. They'd been labeled as the thieves and the murderers, as the Dark Lord supporters.

Of course they would be blind to their own flaws, to the traitors in their own houses. Everyone would suspect the Slytherin to be the snake in the grass, not one of their own.

_Where ever they can point the finger, as long as it isn't directed at them._

My eyes laughed for a moment as I considered my own situation. I'd left one place bent on condemning me only to come to another.

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't see the on coming collision. Someone ran past me, their shoulder slamming into me as they sprinted past. I was knocked off my feet and sent sprawling onto the hard cold flagstones of the Defense Corridor.

_Sipplantare!_ I thought, pointing a finger at the retreating legs. I heard a startled yell and pushed myself to my feet. I coughed as I tried to get air back into my lungs, holding my ribs slightly from where I'd landed on them. I reached up to tentatively touch my chin and was relieved when it came away free of blood.

"What is so damn important that you decide you can just bowel over the people in your way?" I asked, marching over to a small, fair-haired boy scrambling to his feet.

My knees stung and I looked down to see that I'd scrapped both my knees and tore my jeans. They'd been one of the two tear free pairs I'd had. Doubly pissed I pulled out my wand and helped the lad to his feet with a sharp jerk of my wand.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean to run into you. I'm late for a meeting with—with Draco." He said, his hands coming up to fight with the invisible force that had grabbed a hold of the front of his robes.

"You knocked me over for _Malfoy_?" I glared at him, jerking my wand up a little more until he was standing on his tiptoes.

"Please, he said he'd curse me if I was late again!" I dropped the glare and tilted my head as I considered this new information. My eyes flickered to the Slytherin crest on his robes.

"And why would _you_ be meeting with Draco Malfoy?" I asked, taking off the spell.

"I run errands for him." The boy said, rubbing his neck and straitening out his robes.

"Why?"

"Because," He paused, angling a suspicious look at me. I cocked an eyebrow at him and pointedly waggled my wand.

"Because I don't want them to take my books and hex me in the hallways. Can I go now?" He asked belligerently, not quiet daring to take off while I still had my wand out. I nodded and waved him off, thinking. Muttering resentfully he tore off towards the dungeons.

I walked back down the corridor to pick up my fallen book bag, wondering how many people catered to the current Slytherin Prince. What had he done to impress loyalty upon his fellow housemates?

_Threats, bribes, and blackmail that's how. The rest of them just jumped on the bandwagon. Wouldn't want to stand out in this crowd._

I chuckled silently, considering my muggle clothes and overall scruffy punk attire. I saw that a large crowd had already started to gather into Professor Crownheart's open doorway. At least the other students in front of me seemed to think it was the Professor's classroom.

I peaked inside and for a wild moment thought that half the school must be in there.

_Forget this shit. I'll wait out there._

I backed out of the room and sliding past more people trying to get into the doorway. How was one professor going to manage all these people? Every single fifth, sixth, and seventh year must be in there.

I heard a bell go off as I leaned against the far wall. The flow of students had stopped and I guessed there must be at least a hundred plus kids in the hallway and inside the classroom.

"All students wishing to participate in Professor Crownheart's Dueling Class please report to the Great Hall." A deep feminine voice said over the loud curious mass of students.

I started towards the great hall with the rest of the throng and zapped those who pushed or bumped into me with a quick snap of my fingers. By the time we'd all inundated the great hall with our presence the tables had been cleared away to the far sides of the hall.

A tall, dark haired woman with a straight Roman nose and large brown eyes stood in the center of the great hall. Her robes were a somber red that brought out a healthy glow to her high cheekbones and the red sheen in her hair. She lifted up one elegant white hand to direct the awestruck students as she separated them into groups.

"Please separate into the four houses, one to a wall. I would like the Gryffindors to line up against the back wall. The Ravenclaws to the right wall. And the Slytherins to line up against the left wall. Hufflepuffs you are fine where you are." She paused after every house was called, making sure we didn't have any doubt as to which wall to go to, or time to loiter.

I blinked in surprised along with the other students as they took second looks at the assumed Professor Crownheart. The depth of her voice didn't fit her serene, and admittedly beautiful face, having an almost hoarse, gravelly quality to it.

"Now, as you may have guessed, I am Professor Crownheart. However, that does not mean I will necessarily instruct you." She nodded at the Hufflepuffs.

Looking to see who or what she was looking at, we all turned towards the doors. While the professor had been speaking, three figures wearing the robes of Aurors had entered the room behind the bewildered Hufflepuffs. I recognized one of the three and inhaled sharply.

"Because there were so many of you, the Headmaster has decided to enlist the help of three Aurors willing to volunteer their time to teach you."

_More like someone else volunteered them. I thought, judging from the annoyed, sour, and helpless looks on each of their faces._

"This means we will be dividing you into four separate classes. How we will do this is I will ask the first six students from each House to step forward when I call your name." She held up a long scroll she'd been holding when we all entered the room.

"From there Professors Dunsmore, Holt, Sarlow and myself will escort you out of the great hall and to a classroom." Patches of curious conversation started up around the room.

"Quiet please. I will start by naming off those who will be placed in Professor Dunsmore's class. When you here your name please line up in front of your professor. Apperson, Cathy. Aral, Jillian. Bates, Keith. Boots, Terry. Brocklehurst, Mandy…" Professor Crownheart continued to call out the first six names from each house to join Professor Dunsmore, the first coming from the Ravenclaws.

As I watched person after person go to join the sour faced, heavily lined and balding Auror, I felt my stomach sink. By the time my name was called only one or two others would be left, leaving me to join Sarlow.

"What's the glower for?" A melodious husky voice breathed into my left ear. I jerked my head away and looked back to glare at Allman. He'd flinched at my sudden movement and I smirked, relaxing.

"Feeling better?" I asked lightly, turning back to watch some Gryffindors join Professor Dunsmore's class.

"I've been told I'm very resilient." He said dryly, smiling down at me as he came to stand beside me. I snorted, folding my arms across my chest and shifting my weight to my right leg.

"How are _you_ feeling?"

I glanced over at him and shrugged.

"Fine."

"Allman, Valentine." Professor Crownheart called out along with the names of five other Slytherins, only two of whom I recognized to be closely associated with Malfoy.

_Look more like living gargoyles rather than boys._

"I'll see you later tonight?" He asked suddenly before crossing the hall to where Dunsmore's class stood waiting.

"Maybe." I said, looking past him to see who else had been called. I heard him sigh, almost a frustrated sound at my succinct reply before turning to go.

"Will the following students join Professor Holt: Abbot, Hannah. Aulander, Gabriel. Beaumont, Patrick. Bones, Susan. Cartwright, Heather. Creek, Rachel." The Hufflepuffs were the first ones called to join the annoyed Auror called Holt. Some Ravenclaws and Gryffindors soon joined them.

I was relieved to hear Malfoy's name added to the last whole group of six students left in Slytherin, which completed Holt's group. That was another odd thing I'd noticed. Where there were only about two hundred Slytherins total compared to the other houses. Why was that? Were the traits people needed to be sorted into Slytherin less common than those needed to join, say Hufflepuff?

"Looks like the Dream Team has been finally divided." Zabini, the lone Slytherin left besides myself, said.

Indeed, Hermione had been one of the first Gryffindors called. Potter had been lumped into Holt's class leaving Ron alone among his fellow Gryffindors.

"The following students please join Professor Sarlow: Sweetblood, Astrid. Zabini, Blaise." Professor Crownheart called out before turning towards the Ravenclaws.

The noise level in the hall, until then silent, rose. Professor Crownheart frowned fiercely and was forced to use the Sonorus Charm to be heard over all the students in the hall who were peering curiously at me. I ignored them and led a startled Zabini to a helpless looking Sarlow, who I noticed was staring at me with an unhealthy interest.

I lifted my eyebrows in a silent hello. When the hall was quiet again Crownheart continued.

"Hello Ast—Miss Vanderhorn." Sarlow said giving me a nervous smile. I raised an eyebrow at him and nodded before turning to watch Crownheart call off the names of the other students all of who were Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, or Gryffindors as there were no more Slytherins left.

Luckily I didn't have to worry about Ron being added to our group as there were plenty of Gryffindors left to be called before his name came up. As I waited for Professor Crownheart to come to the end of the list I glanced at the watch of a twiggy Ravenclaw girl with wire framed glasses.

"Gah! It's almost three. When do we get to leave?"

"Not until four." Zabini said in a bored tone. I ran a hand through my hair and sighed gustily.

Twenty minutes later Crownheart had finished calling out the names on the list. It's taken all class period to divide us all into the four different classes. I felt irritable and grumpy. My right foot had fallen asleep while waiting for the rough voice of the Defense professor to cease calling out names.

"This way then, follow me!" Sarlow said, gesturing with a hand to lead his relieved class out of the great hall with the three other classes.

Talk erupted as we left the great hall, following our professors towards the Defense Corridor. Sarlow led us to the first door on the right. For my own comfort I snagged a back corner table, dumping my bag onto the chair next to me while Zabini nodded to a tall, lanky Ravenclaw boy. The rest of the tables quickly filled up and I leaned forward in my chair to fold my arms beneath my head, yawning as I lay down.

Sarlow introduced himself to the class and gave them a brief background summery on his life, stumbling a few times from nervousness. He quickly found his balance though and soon was leaning comfortably against the scuffed teacher desk situated at the front of the room in front of the chalkboard.

From now on our Dueling Class would consist of various activities and group projects. Every two months all four classes would take turns using Professor Emrys doubly enlarged room to have War Games. These games would be held in the evenings and would account for a large portion of our grade. During the ten months we spent in school we would work on our performance in the Game.

He went on to explain the rules and requirements that had to be fulfilled and followed during the Game.

"By this time next week I will have divided you into groups of six. Each time we play the members in your group will change, perhaps only one or two people will be different or all of them, it all depends.

"While some of you are natural leaders, I know there are those that aren't; whether or you are or aren't however is irrelevant because all of you will learn how to take the initiative when it is demanded of you." His hazel eyes were serious and direct as they looked into the faces of the other eager students.

I closed my eyes and kept my head pillowed on my arms, listening keenly to what he was saying despite myself.

"In the game and in this class there are three main rules you must follow at all times. They're called the Three T's. The first rule is responsibility." He held up one finger. "The moment you are assigned to a group you are responsible for the welfare of every person in that group. The second rule is loyalty. You loyalty is to your group and to the mission you are given during the game. And finally there is honesty. If you break the rules of the Game you will be forced to forfeit the right to play and your grade. Question, yes?" He pointed to someone near the front.

"What do you mean we have to be loyal to our missions?"

"Before each Game your group will be given a set of tasks to complete during the game. Your grade will depend on how well you accomplish those tasks whether they are simply setting off a red spark in a certain area, seeking out a particular person, or capturing an object from a designated place. Whatever it is, you are expected to do your utmost to successfully accomplish the missions within a set amount of time and without breaking certain rules." He smiled, shaking his head slightly as he remembered something.

"I'll tell you right now that it'll be hard. Aurors play the Game in training. It's a team building exercise that does more than just test your wand skills. But enough of that for now, we'll talk more about the Game at the end of the month." He said as more people raised their hands excitedly.

"As far as this class goes we'll be covering defensive spells and barriers first before moving on to concealment techniques. After that we'll probably cover some basic Alarm Spells. While we're doing that I'll show you useful offensive charms and whatnot." He said, pulling himself up on the desk like an overgrown kid as he twirled his wand between his fingers.

"Now, I'll be honest with you, I didn't exactly volunteer for this job as Professor Crownheart said. I've never taught before and I remember how much I hated bookwork so most of the stuff in here is going to be hands on." Cheers of support and relief drowned him out for a moment. He waved them to silence, smiling ruefully.

"However, Professor Crownheart has made it painfully clear that I must give you something to do. So, your homework for this week is to read chapters one and two. I also would like you to make a list of all the defensive charms and spells you are capable of performing and then research a Shield Charm that was used in the Battle of Orren the Awful during the Eleventh Siege of Roark Castle. I want three and a half feet of parchment on the charm you choose." Groaning and long suffering sighs of misery sounded through the room.

A muffled buzzing noise sounded from one of Sarlow's robe pockets. His eyes filled with relief and surprise as he pulled out an odd-looking pocket watch.

"You may go." Chairs scrapped and feet clattered on the stone floor of the room.

I covered a yawn and grabbed up my book bag. I felt eyes on me as I joined the crowed filing out of the door. I sent a martyred look to the back of a blond haired girl in front of me.

"Miss Vanderhorn." Sarlow called. I pretended not to hear him and continued out the door and down the hall.

"Why are you ignoring him?" Zabini asked suddenly. I blinked in surprise, not having noticed that he was walking beside me.

"He wanted to ask me about the hippogriff incident. He's the one that tackled me to the floor and cracked my head open in a poor attempt at heroism. I don't feel very forgiving at the moment." I said, shading the truth.

Zabini gave me a calculating sideways glance before nodding in acceptance of my explanation. That was probably one of the reasons Professor Sarlow wanted to speak with me. The other was probably to tell me that as a professor he couldn't afford to date me, not that he could as a school Auror. I rolled imaginary eyes.

_He'll probably find another skirt to chase after anyway._

"How many first year messengers does Malfoy have under his thumb, Zabini?" I asked, changing the subject as we turned the corner to start down the stairs leading to the common room.

"Mostly all of them though he does tend to leave those snot-nosed Gryffindor brats alone. They usually whine to someone or other and prove to be too much of a hassle. Those ones he just jinxes. Why?"

"Ran into one today. Thing would have begged on its knees if it'd been able too." I said with just the right amount of disgust.

"Oh, so you were the one that made little Benjamin late today." A sly smile flickered briefly over my face for Zabini's benefit.

"Well, well, well. I must say you are heartless, very commendable in a Slytherin. Tell me, were you the one who cursed that compartment door on the train?" He asked chuckling as we wound our way through the cold damp dungeons.

When I didn't answer a pleased smiled spread across his dark skin, showing me perfect white teeth.

"The Mudblood was very upset with the occupant of that compartment. Pansy isn't very happy with you either but that is to be expected." As Zabini spoke I felt a dark, grim feeling seep into my bones.

Acting like a black-hearted bitch wasn't hard, but it left me feeling slimy and irritated. I may be insensitive and cold, but I wasn't cruel. I wasn't a twisted sadistic freak who enjoyed the pain of others like Malfoy. Like Voldemort.

"Has Malfoy asked you to meet him yet?"

"Yes. I'm supposed to meet him tonight with Allman."

"Good. I believe you will find Slytherin to be just the place for you, Miss Sweetblood. Catergys." He whispered to the common room entrance. Fortunately I was able to hide my shock over the password by preceding him in to the room.

_I'd wondered how I got in here last night. Prince. Clever._

We parted silently. I headed towards my room and looked forward to taking a hot shower and a nap before dinner. I felt like I'd been here for days, not merely hours. Zabini was definitely not to be trusted. Dark and slender, he reminded me of a dozing snake.

_That's where I am now, in a huge damn snake pit._

* * *

**(A/N) **

**Bout freakin' time!**

**Alright, readers please report on this: Errors and rough flows. I kinda just ran my eyes over it before plugging it in here, knowing that if I were you I really wouldn't care about such frivolous things but I would still like feed back.**

**(And yes I found and fixed the "scares" to scars. Thanks for telling me! But next time please tell me where the mistake was because I had to read the whole damn thing over again just to find it.)**

**If you think I should tone certain things down or change anything to make it better I'm all ears. I know this one is long and that there are definite mood swings here because I've been sneaking up to my computer at irregular intervals during the last two months. I know my moods are reflected in my writing but I dunno if it's that bad because Astrid seems to swing wildly from emotion to emotion anyway.**

**Glad to have updated, the author**


	13. Poverty Check

"**I'm here to do two things: drink some beer and kick some ass. Looks like we're almost out of beer." –Dazed and Confused**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

I heard Prince growl and felt him bristle against my legs as I reclined on the couch, soaking up the warmth of the fire. Having decided to forgo dinner I'd staked out on one of the couches in the common room. My hair was still damp from the shower I'd taken earlier and my book bag had been tossed on the floor near my feet along with a couple spare quills.

I yawned, my eyes feeling as if they were made of sandpaper. The hot shower had helped relax my knotted muscles, all of which felt tight and sore. I was going to be a wreak in the morning.

"Getting a head start?"

I glanced up from the history book, my finger marking my place in the passage I'd been skimming through. It was a dull recap describing a feud between a group of goblins and a wizard whose name I'd already forgotten.

"Obviously." I said though my yawn, dipping my quill in the inkbottle floating near my elbow.

I scribbled another paragraph onto the parchment describing the circumstances under which the wizard—I skimmed the page—Roark had cast the Rabble Shield. In truth I wasn't doing this because Sarlow assigned it but for my own interest. I tried to think of the last time I'd actually turned in any homework.

_Huh. I think the last assignment I did before O.W.L.'s for...well it certainly wasn't for Potions._

I had stopped doing homework for the Institute's Potion Mistress since she'd ordered me to a lifetime of shelving and scrubbing.

_I suppose that's one benefit of having to come here. No more cauldron scrubbing or labeling ingredients. _

Prince's growls increased in their intensity and I spared a tired glance at the hovering Allman who was glaring at him. When I didn't say anything he turned around in annoyance and sat on the couch across from me.

"What shield are you researching?" He asked, leaning back into the couch. He laid one hand on his chin, studying me as I balanced the history book on my lap to use as a hard backing to jot down notes.

"An easy one." I said without looking up. It was true. The Rabble Shield, according to the historians, was one of the most simplistic defensive spells used in the feud between Roark and the goblins. The only problem is that was _all_ they said about it.

I was noting the circumstances in which the spell had been cast in hopes of researching it more extensively tomorrow. If I could narrow down what type of shield it was and what other spells could be compared to it locating it in the library would be simple enough.

"Malfoy wants us to meet him here at two."

"In the morning?" I asked incredulously, lifting my head up to look at Allman. He nodded, flicking his dark hair out of his even darker eyes.

"If he thinks I'm meeting him tonight after the day I've had…" Shaking my head I began stuffing my notes into an inner robe pocket. "I'm not meeting him here at two in the morning." I snapped my book shut and corked my inkbottle before banishing them into my book bag.

Prince glared at me as I got up off the couch, bumping my tingling feet against him. I rubbed them, trying to wake them up as I curled my shoulders inward in a silent stretch.

"I swear he's the kinda kid you could use as a blue print to build an idiot." Running a hand through my partially dry hair I stood up and slung my book bag over my shoulder

"I'm going to bed. Tell him he can shove his meeting up his skinny white ass."

Prince's ears perked up at "bed" and he eagerly rose to lead the way to our dormitory. I rolled my eyes and went to follow him at a more sedate pace as my muscles twinged.

_Oh, I'm sore. I'll have to stretch before I turn in or else I wont be able to roll out of bed let alone sit up in the morning._

"Astrid." Allman had gotten up from his seat as soon as Prince had disappeared around the corner. I stopped, looking back at him as I waited.

"What?" I said, giving him an impatient look as he came to stand next to me.

_Nice. _Very_ nice._ A smirking part of my brain commented as I watched him. I determinedly ignored that thought, or tried to.

_Damn hormones._

"Just try to understand…" He sighed irritably, rubbing his hand through his hair.

"Look, I told you about our parents, right?"

"No, actually you didn't." I said, crossing my arms.

"Fine, then just listen to me: Malfoy might be an ugly git, but he's a dangerous one, you have to be cautious!"

"Dangerous, hell Allman, I'm dangerous. You know, at first I thought I'd slowly push Draco out of the picture, but there's just something about him that pisses me off. I don't give a rat's ass if his father's a Death Eater. So what?" I snapped, responding to his mounting frustration.

"Look, you can't just—you have to think this through! Malfoy has a lot of influence, and I'm not talking about just inside Hogwarts. You'll be hard pressed to find a pureblood wizard who doesn't owe a favor or more to his father."

"Yours for example." I summarized quickly. The little prick had something on Allman's dad and he'd better play nice or else something unpleasant might happen.

"Yes. Like my father." He admitted tightly. "But some of his father's acquaintances might have other reasons for hurting you and they'll do it in anyway they can."

"What? Is he going send Daddy's friends on me? I highly doubt his father would start calling in favors in order to silence a worthless halfblood American who's partial to muggle clothes." I mocked, scoffing at his seriousness.

"Agh! You just don't get it do you?" His eyes were heated as he went to grab my shoulders, but he snatched them back before actually touching me.

"Get what? I'm sure Draco's dad has better things to do than murder one of his son's playmates." I said forcefully, frustrated with his unreasonable fear.

I was oblivious to the stares we were drawing from people coming back from dinner. He made quieting gestures and tried to steer me away from the dormitory entrance. I only went a couple steps before brushing off his hands as he tried to placate me.

"Malfoy isn't my problem. Suck up to him if you have to, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I let that whey-faced runt dictate _my _life. I'm done walking on eggshells! I don't need his bullshit, and I certainly don't need yours. So back the hell off, I'm going to bed damn it."

* * *

"Reerrow!" 

The fierce yowl jolted me awake. My eyes flew open and I sat up quickly, my heart nearly jumping out of my chest as I crouched defensively amidst a wad of tangled blankets. Something had ruthlessly flung aside my dark green bed hangings. I blinked and groaned in disgust, falling back against my pillows.

"What d'you want?" I growled, throwing my arm across my face. The rush of energy triggered by my flight-or-fight reaction was still surging through my system, leaving me a little breathless.

_I hate waking up like this. Damn. I should've stretched. I'll have to do it in the shower because there's no way in hell I'll be able to make it through the day if I don't._

All those exercises had turned my body into a giant knot; even my arms and stomach had hurt when I'd jumped up along with my lower back muscles, my thighs, calves…

"Err, well, I uh…" The girl who'd woke me up stammered, obviously petrified by the ferocious looking cat spitting at her. I kicked Prince from beneath the wad of blankets.

"Well?" I snapped, glaring at the vaguely familiar girl. When she still didn't respond I sighed, flinging aside the rumpled blankets and resentfully scooting to the edge of the bed, biting back a groan.

"Move." I said, pushing past the girl as I climbed out of bed to fumble with my trunk before realizing I'd locked my keys inside the nightstand.

Grumbling, I limped back over to my bed and reached under my pillow to retrieve my wand. Maureen was already up and out.

_She must be one of those early birds. Ugh. Disgusting. At least I won't see her in the morning though._

Catching sight of my alarm clock, I swore violently.

7:17 A.M.

"What could you possibly want from me at seven in the morning?" I asked while I unlocked my trunk. There wasn't any point in crawling back into bed, it was too late for that. I sorted through my collection of torn and equally battered jeans. The nervous, mousy haired kid cleared her throat, finally finding her voice.

"Um, Val asked me to wake you up to run, so I err, well he _said_ you wouldn't mind." She said defensively. I eyed the girl, trying to place her.

"Oh, and I'm—"

"Renshaw. Heather Renshaw, third year Hogwarts student." I said turning back to my trunk.

_Damn it! I forgot about running. Well it'll warm me up and help get rid of the kinks._

The girl had an odd look on her face as I pulled out a beat up windbreaker, a black sports-bra, and a pair of old jogging pants from one of my compartments.

"You sat next to me during lunch yesterday. You hate ham sandwiches and have a crush on the boy who sat farther down the table next to a girl with short hair." I said, recalling the envious looks she'd sent the feather brained chit.

Her eyes widened momentarily before she could hide it behind a mask of scorn.

"I do _not_ like Malcom Baddock." I just stared at her. She glowered at me for a moment before dropping her eyes, grumbling something that sounded a lot like "well I don't".

"Frankly I could care less about whether you do or do not. What I do care about is never seeing you in here again. I don't care if he's _dying_. Allman can damn well shove his requests up that nice ass of his. Don't fall for pretty faces, kid. You'll only regret it."

"Do you?" She shot out belligerently. A sharp crack of laughter escaped me.

_Oh yes, I'd almost forgotten. They think I'm slobbering over Allman. That bastard._

"Don't believe everything you hear, and only half of what you see. Now scat." I jerked my head towards the door. She left in a huff, the door shutting silently behind her.

"Kids. I'll have to ward the curtains." Sighing heavily I slowly pulled on my running clothes and inexpertly raked my hair steadily growing hair back into something vaguely similar to a ponytail. In another month or so I wouldn't surprise me if reached my elbows.

_Maybe Dad was right. Maybe I should cut it. _

_Yeah, and maybe you should have let him smack you around, too. _I growled into the long mirror hanging on the back wall, snatching up my wand.

"And perhaps he'd be alive if you hadn't pissed him off." I sneered at my reflection before storming out into the hall.

* * *

When I finally reached the great hall—having left Allman gasping for breath near the entrance along with a handful of other students who had decided to do the homework for Gooddell—my sides were heaving and my face was flushed. The castle felt reasonably warm compared to outside, making my skin feel hot and sticky. 

I ignored the looks my outfit drew, and fell into an empty chair near a cluster of giggling girls. I recognized and ignored Pansy and Maureen, pouring myself a glace of water.

"Excuse me, what do you think you're doing?" One of the girls close to Pansy asked, sneering at my sweaty face and muggle clothes.

"What does it look like?" I asked, my stomach growling as I spotted a platter of ham and cheese croissant sandwiches. I felt loads better than I had this morning. I'd worked out the knots in my legs and arms after I'd down some practice sprints up and done the school steps, doing some serious stretching when I was done.

_That potion Zabini gave me helped too. He was the only one who was smart enough to warm up first. Idiots. I hadn't realized boys were so stupid before coming here. That's what I get for attending a co-ed school. Speaking of idiots… _

"Hey pass those over here." Allman said, taking a seat next to me. I took another one off the plate before passing it on to him and the other Slytherin boys wearing the wizard equivalent to muggle exercise clothes who had just drug themselves into the hall.

I grimaced as they invited themselves to the other empty seats around Allman.

"Morning Val." The same girl who'd been talking to me said, giggling.

_Uck._

"Morning. How long have you been in here?" Allman said, directing the last question at me. I could feel the collective glare from the girls on me. I tried not to roll my eyes.

"Not long. I walked around outside for a while to catch my breath." I said, taking another bite of the sandwich.

"Knew you were fast, but bloody hell Astrid, I didn't know you could fly." A tall, brown haired boy across from me said, shaking his head as he helped himself to four of the croissants.

"What, you didn't see her bolt yesterday, Theo?" An older boy with a bold nose and hair ruffled like a haystack said as he leaned over Theo to stab at a plate of sausages.

"No, I was too busy dodging the bloody hippogriff. Heard about it though. Zabini told me."

"Yes I believe I did." Zabini said, pouring himself another goblet of water.

"Oi, Astrid! Did Emrys assign you a partner?" Lucas Varner, a short stocky teen asked from his place beside Allman at the end of the table.

"Not you." I said pointedly, finishing the croissant and pushing back my chair.

"What time is it?" I looked over at Allman's watch.

"Eight fifteen. Where're you going?" He asked, taking the offered plate of sausages from Zabini.

"Back to the common room. Not that it's any of your business." I said, grabbing up my other sandwich.

_Arrogant prick._

"Not your witch any more, eh, Valentine?" Theodore Nott snickered as he snatched up a couple of napkins. Allman glared at him, his hard stare discouraging further comments.

They hadn't stopped heckling him since we'd left the common room. Once I'd entered the common room I had lifted my wand and sent him flying into the opposing wall. Once I had jerked him upright until our noses were only inches apart, I had then informed him that his ass would be grass if he did not stop bothering me.

"Got great taste though. I wouldn't mind shagging her myself." The guy sitting beside Nott remarked, making a show of running his eyes over me.

_Not on your life._

"Say that again Throckmorten and I'll see to it that the size of your—wand, reflects the size of your brain. Petite." His friends howled, slapping him on the back.

Throckmorten's eyes glinted, an unpleasant grin forming on his dusky features.

"I think you'd find my _wand_ more than satisfying, Sweetblood. Care to try it on—"

"No, I don't think she does, Joseph. So tell me Astrid, is your name actually Sweetblood now?" Zabini interrupted, giving his friend a pointed look before turning to me.

"Yes." I said tersely, not missing the smirk Throckmorten shared with a snickering Nott.

_I didn't realize boys were so…stupid. I almost miss the Institute. No boys._

"Then you have inherited Sweetblood Hall, correct? Or am I mistaken in that the ring you are currently wearing on your thumb is not the signet ring of the late Mr. Evander Sweetblood?"

"No idea. What's your point, Zabini?" I snapped with no small amount of impatience.

I was very aware of the kind of attention I was receiving from my table partners and had no intention of hanging around any longer than was absolutely necessary.

"You mean he hasn't told you?" Exclaimed Zabini with a false air of surprise.

"Bugger off, Zabini." Allman said dangerously, his body tensing up.

"Told me what?"

"Sweetblood Hall is one of the largest estates in Europe. Needless to say, many would feel cheated if such a magnificent property were to be given to a…person such as yourself." He said lightly, leaning back in his chair.

I had the distinct impression of a marbled eyed snake recoiling after having successfully delivered a fatal strike.

"Cheated." I echoed, going over the implications in my mind.

"More or less. The house alone is worth millions of Galleons. My father once told me that the Sweetbloods had enough Galleons to fill Gringotts." Zabini said, watching me carefully.

I looked over at Allman.

…_If none of my named children survive me or leaves a lineal descendant who survives me, then according to the order of succession, I name Marian Blodwen Allman and Bridget Anna Somerlad as my beneficiaries..._

_Marian Blodwen Allman. Oh._ I mentally kicked myself.

If I had just stayed away or, even better yet, died, Allman's mother would have inherited Sweetblood Hall. And their darling prodigy was here to make sure that if they couldn't kill me for it, perhaps they could procure it through more lawful means.

_Fat chance that'll happen. I don't intend to tie that particular knot until I'm damn well and ready to, thanks._

Of course his family wouldn't be the only ones trying to get their hands on my inheritance through marriage or murder.

_Might have other reasons to hurt me_…I chuckled suddenly, startling them.

My life was in danger because of a house, and chances are I'd loose it before I ever stepped foot inside of it. The Floo-Connection and water bills alone would suck my paycheck dry.

I mean come on! I was going to be killed for a house the bank would probably end up confiscating once they realized I wasn't paying taxes.

"Unbelievable. Look I've got to go take a shower. I swear…" I left the great hall shaking my head. I'd have to do interviews today if I wanted to have some money to buy food and clothes with.

_Too bad. After all, it is my mother's house._

The thought made me sigh deeply and I ran a hand through my sweaty hair as I headed down the dungeon steps. Grimacing, I wiped my hand on my pants. Classes started at nine, I needed to hurry if I wanted to get to Charms on time.

* * *

"Damn it!" I spun away from where the Charms door had been, scanning the corridor in hopes that it might turn up. I'd nearly made it inside the classroom before Maureen had shoved me back out into the hallway and then slammed the door. 

_Bitch! _

"Ahrg!" I strode angrily down the corridor, my robes billowing around my knees.

I'd already ran into doors that weren't really doors just parts of the castle pretending, and then there were the doors that had to be cajoled open or touched in a certain spot. Not to mention the stairs. They also moved, disappearing and reappearing at will, or simply shifting to another stairwell while you're on them.

"Damn!" Someone said.

I looked over my shoulder to see an angry Ravenclaw girl with a wide mouth and wavy white-blond hair standing in front of where the door had been.

"Who in the hell shut that damnable door before everyone was inside?" She growled, coming over to stand beside me.

"Maureen McVeigh." I said tersely, glaring with her at the wall.

"Bitch. C'mon then. We'll have to run up to the fourth floor before she thinks to shut it again." She started off down the corridor and I followed after a moment's hesitation.

We hurtled down the hallway and down the next flight of stairs to the end of the corridor.

"Oh no you don't!" The girl panted when we saw Maureen's looking at us from down the hall as she waved us goodbye, her hand closing around the knob.

"_Petrificus totalus!_" The girl's spell zinged down the corridor and just barely missed Maureen as she screamed, jumping back away from the door.

We made it to the door, our breathing only a little uneven. We didn't draw too much attention as the other students were still talking and sitting on desktops. The Charms teacher was nowhere in sight.

"Astird!" I looked up from where I'd tossed my bag on the floor next to the last available seat in front of the Ravenclaw girl who was still spiting nails as she wove her way over to Maureen to yell at her.

Allman had saved me a seat at the very back of the room along with the rest of the Slytherin guys. I spotted Malfoy lounging against the far wall, his chair tilted back as he held court in the far corner next to Zabini and the others.

_When Galleons grow on trees._

I heard a few comments tossed my way and resisted the urge to hex Throckmorten's balls off as I took my seat.

"Settle down now, settle down."

I raised my chin as I attempted to find the source of the voice. A small man with white hair and a cheerful smile was standing at the front of the class atop a very large pile of books.

_You've got to be joking._

"Welcome back students, and hello to our newcomers. I am Professor Flitwick your Charms instructor. If you are in this class that means that you have successfully completed your O.W.L's and wish to gain a N.E.W.T. in Charms…"

The squeaky little man went on for some time, outlining the course for the year and discussing the difficulty level of the homework and projects. For the majority of the first half of the period the class was moderately quiet, making a list of charms they remembered and copying down the week's homework assignment. He then handed us a perquisite quiz that covered everything we should already know or needed to brush up on by this same time next week before we began learning any new material.

_This sucks ass. _I thought as I reviewed my test answers for the third time. According to the clock fastened to the wall at the front of the class we had only had a minute left to finish our one hundred and nine question "quiz".

Satisfied with my work I flipped my test paper over and leaned back in my chair to listen to the groaning, swearing, muttering, restless shifting, nervous tapping, and sniffling coming from my classmates as they hurriedly scribbled in their answers.

"Quills down." Groans and curses filled the room as Professor Flitwick summoned the papers to his desk a few minutes later.

"Well done everyone! Homework will be due next Tuesday." He called after us as we filtered out the door.

I followed the crowd to lunch, walking in only to grab a sandwich before searching out the library. I had almost an hour before my last class of the day started, time enough to begin researching the Rabble Shield.

Hogwart's library was massive. Endless shelves flooded what seemed to be a room twice or even three times the size of a muggle football field. Tables and private study desks were scattered throughout the maze of towering bookcases filled with dusty tombs and tattered leather bindings. Even the library in Beauty and the Beast would be hard put to outmatch the collection of texts Hogwarts had accumulated over the years.

"Or centuries." I muttered, taking note of the crotchety old witch glaring at me from behind her desk with beady black eyes. She was almost vulture like with her thin flabby neck and her curved head carriage as she watched me through a tower of books stacked on either side of her.

I wandered through the shelves, thankful for the large brass plaques that were fastened to them.

_History. How helpful. Now I only have to search _this_ half of the library. Isn't there a card catalog or something that I can refer to?_

Sighing I drew a location rune on the shelf before weaving my way towards the front desk where the librarian was lurking.

"Excuse me, where can I—"

"SHH!" She hissed, putting a finger to her thin frowning lips. She scowled angrily at me to make sure I got the message.

"Card catalog?" I asked unfazed by her reaction.

She curtly told me no, taking sadistic satisfaction in the fact that Hogwarts expected its students to find books on their own. It was their own fault if they couldn't find what they needed. Not her problem.

_Hag._

Stalking away from her, I traced the second half of the location rune. A line of red light appeared, acting like string as it connected the two runes and allowed me to easily retrace my steps back to the beginning of the historic section.

I searched for titles that mentioned shields, war related shields, protective barriers used in war, and historic defense spells, charms, and/or curses.

Walking along the isles I began to pull out books, occasionally putting some back on the shelf when I saw that they wouldn't be of any use to me. I satisfied myself with four giant tombs and thunked them down on an empty table, raising a cloud of dust. Coughing, I waved my hand in front of my face to clear the air and glanced at the ancient grandfather clock that had been shoved in between two shelves.

_Plenty of time_. _Oh, I need to copy that Healer book too..._

I spent the rest of my lunch browsing the books I'd chosen, a frown forming on my face. By the time I'd slammed the last book on the table, having repeatedly gotten up to grab volume after volume within the last forty minutes, I knew I'd could be here for weeks before I found anything.

Questions and speculations sprouted up in my mind like weeds as I walked out of the library, ignoring the disapproving sniff from the vulture woman. Most of the tombs hadn't even mentioned the Rabble Shield and if they did it was only in passing. However, when it was mentioned it was associated with spells used to accommodate large groups of people.

It could just be that it was such a common, simple spell that the writers hadn't bothered themselves with an explanation. I'd just have to look for it harder when I got back from Hogsmeade.

My backpack one book heavier, I tried to remember the directions I'd gotten from another classmate to get from the library to the Healer's room.

_Now what was it? The first left and tickle the doorknob on the first door. And something about a fish._

I turned the corner and lightly scratched the black doorknob belonging to the first door on the left. The entire frame squirmed before the door swung inward to reveal a flight of stairs that led up to another hallway perpendicular to the third floor corridor.

Torches had been fixed to the walls, reflecting eerily off them. I heard faint echoes of more voices and was reassured that I was headed in the right direction. I took off down the low stone corridor, ignoring the annoying younger students that passed me.

I reached the painting of a bad tempered goldfish the size of a quaffle and stopped.

"Is this the Healer's room?" I asked it, watching as it proceeded to blow a stream of angry bubbles at me.

"Even the dead animals hate me." I muttered as it deliberately swam away, turning its back on me.

"I will report you if you don't cooperate."

Annoyed, it did a loop-de-loop and the man-sized painting swung open to reveal an elevated doorframe. I grasped either side of the frame, pulling myself up and through.

"Stupid fish." I muttered, lurching forward as the portrait door slammed shut on me.

Oddly enough it wasn't a room I'd entered but a short curved hallway. There were three doors in the bend and a fourth at the end of the small corridor. There was a long mirror between each bewitched window that faced the Forbidden Forest. I saw several students, mostly girls, priming in the mirrors as they chatted with friends or flirted.

_Odd how the Houses clump together, even when socializing. How many of them only speak to their Housemates?_

A few people actually glared at me when they saw the telltale green embroidered house patch on my robe. One boy actually flipped me off and in a blink I had drawn my wand and fired off a jinx that stiffened skin. It was very useful if one wanted to preserve facial expressions or physical gestures.

My wand was back inside my robe before the boy realized what had happened. I'd heard a few shocked gasps when I'd drawn my wand but they soon gave way to chuckles as the boy cried out in surprise.

"My hand!" He yelled. His left hand was clutching his petrified right, which was stuck in an offensive position. I smirked.

"You should be more careful. It might stay that way."

"Astrid!" My eyes shifted to the girl standing next to the boy.

"Granger." I said, mocking her admonishing tone. She bristled, opening her mouth no doubt to threaten me with her shiny prefect badge. My eyes lighted on the red-haired lout next to her and I cut her off.

"Ronald Weasley. I believe you owe me an apology." People began to turn around as they felt the rising tension between Ron and myself.

"I don't owe you anything you traitorous hag!" He spat, ears turning red. Harry reached out to place a calming hand on him.

"Back off Potter!" I growled, shaking my head once. "This is between me and my cousin. As I recall you have one of those." I turned back to Ron. "Saturday after breakfast in Professor Emry's room. If you're not there Weasley, it's open game on your ass. Choose your second now." I demanded harshly. Startled, he paused for a moment as he looked between his two best friends.

"I'm his second." The petrified boy declared, his ruddy cheeks red with anger and embarrassment.

"Very well." I said before Ron could protest. My mind raced for a moment and I grinned inwardly, turning to stare at the girls that had gathered around the trio.

"Hannah Abbot." Loud protests from my housemates quickly filled the corridor along with looks of disbelief from the Gryffindors.

What was Sweetblood thinking? A goody-two-shoes Gryffindork act as second for a Slytherin?

I wanted to laugh. Everybody thought Slytherins were so great at duleing, but they aren't. They're just the outcasts, the mean kids with bad attitudes and ambitions. They're the ones who will do what must be done to reach their goal, underhanded or not. But they can't duel, I know, I'd watched some of them during and outside of class.

_Hannah's isn't half-bad though._ I thought, meeting the girl's bewildered stare coolly.

"Hannah, do you feel up to the challenge? If not…" Once the initial shock had worn off she nodded, ignoring the looks of betrayal Ron shot at her.

"Of course."

Just then the doors along the walls opened and the students began filtering into the classrooms. Hannah, head held high, followed the other disgruntled Gryffindors into the first room.

The rest of the Houses did the same, each wordlessly breaking off to enter a room. The Slytherins had the room at the end of the hall.

I endured the sneers and cold stares of the others who thought I was traitorous, knowing that from now on I'd have someone to vouch for me in Gryffindor. Zabini alone didn't question me, smiling knowingly.

Healing was tedious, the professor being a bent over, elderly man with watery blue eyes. He spoke in a monotone that could have made a Quidditch game dull. According to him, the class would consist mainly of lectures and note taking. We would be expected to read three chapters a week and take our own notes. There would be an exam every Tuesday to make sure we'd read the material and retained the information. Overall it was going to be a fast paced, boring and mainly theoretical class that required a good memory.

Our first exam would be next Tuesday. We had to memorize the location and names of all the bones in a human body along with the names of all the systems, tissues, and muscles.

I left regretting the fact I'd signed up for it.

"Excuse me, do you know where I can find a Mr. Filch?" I asked a shy looking Hufflepuff girl as I walked down the marble staircase towards the entrance hall. She slowed down and stopped a couple steps above me.

"Um," She thought for a moment, biting her lip, "I'm not sure. I've never been to his office. You usually don't have to look far. He normally pops up whenever people are making a mess, or breathing too hard." She said smiling slightly.

"Okay, well thanks." I said, sighing.

She nodded apologetically before continuing on ahead of me. I twirled my wand in my hand as I leaned against the railing.

"Hmm."

I could keep looking around but if there was some kind of bell I could summon him with…the corners of my mouth twitched. Laughing inwardly, I let my eyes wander slowly over my surrounding. I took in the portrait-covered walls, the two statues behind me, the great hall doors, the suits of armor…

_Bingo. _

Conscious of the other students, I carefully pointed my wand and flicked it in the general direction of the armor. "_Promovi_!"

A moment later a series of crashes filled the hall. Several passing students screamed, scattering before the toppling suits of armor.

"Huh. Someone should've spaced them further apart." I observed, wincing as the last suit fell to the floor. I counted six empty spaces lining the wall right of the great hall, the sixth having just barely missed its neighbor.

I went along with the other students, playing spectator as I leaned over the railing to see what was going on.

"Punctual as usual. He's such a git."

"Ooh, I hate him! And that bloody cat."

"C'mon lets go before he pins it on us." A group of students said, referring to an ugly, unhappy man with spit collecting at the corners of his mouth.

The man had appeared from somewhere beneath the stairs, shouting at the few remaining students who hadn't had sense to run when he'd arrived.

"Who did this? I said _who did this_? I'll have you scrubbing toilets for a week!" He spat, pointing a finger at a horrified boy who had been stupid enough to laugh at the caretaker.

Filch continued to throw a tantrum as a little man wearing strange clothes appeared out of nowhere to yank on the end of his pointed nose.

"GOT YOUR CONK!" He cackled before zooming away upside down, his bell-covered hat jingling.

I made a sound of frustration as Filch ran off hollering after the mad poltergeist.

Racing down the steps I took off after him, spelling a helmet to swivel in front of him. "Mr. Filch, I am to inform you that I will be leaving the castle—" I began.

He cursed fluently, picking himself off the floor. "Fine, just get out of my way!" He growled pushing me aside as he went after his prey.

Making a face at his back I straightened my robes and brushed the hair out of my face. "No need to get violent." I muttered, heading over to the front entrance doors.

Once I started down the stone steps I found myself hoping that Dumbledore hadn't been joking when he'd mentioned that Broomsticks place. Who knows how long it would take me to find a job? The fact that the Dark Lord's servants were running around wouldn't help matters. Employers would have to be even more careful about who they took on.

_I'll probably end up working three part-time jobs and barely scrape buy on four, maybe five Galleons every other week, the rest of it going to the house._

_Maybe I'll only have to pay property taxes. I can apparate now. Hmm, I'll have to look into that..._

* * *

**(A/N) **

**Okay, here is Chapter 13! I know it isn't as long as the others but at least it's _something. Something _is better than nothing. Or so I'm told.**

**All right, things are going to start picking up. In the next chapter there will be some major developments to help get this story rolling (finally). I have just finished tweaking my new outline and am MORE THAN READY to get crank this baby into gear. **

**I also want to thank those of you who have sent me "door knockers" to make sure I was still here. Those really encouraged me to keep writing.**

**So yes, I will keep working on my story but it's gonna take awhile. Reviews concerning my grammar and plot/character ideas would be great. I'm constantly looking over this thing and catching mistakes. It's damn annoying.**

**Actually ANY reviews would be great because I feel like I'm not getting any feedback and that's really unsettling. The lack of reviews insinuates that my story is horrible and isn't worth commenting on.**

**HOWEVER, if it is horrible I would like to know why and what would be better instead.**

**I mean, If you notice something is wrong tell me! Even if you don't know how to fix it. Just to bring the problem to my attention so _I _can fix it.**

**And tell me where the problem is so I don't have to dig through this thing.**

**Hope you don't find too many errors, the author.**

**PS: Hope you had a good Thanksgiving**


	14. Remedial Potions

"**Hell has no rage like love turned to hatred, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." –William Congreve**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

After having had to argue with some prowling Aurors that _yes_ I was a student, and _yes_ I did have a pass, I made my way into Hogsmeade.

Being the first entirely magical community I'd ever seen, I took my time looking around. The town itself was odd, reminding me of a much shabbier Diagon Alley. I could see actual houses settled between a few of the buildings, though the majority were located farther away from what I'm sure was considered 'down town'.

I took note of the kiddy attractions like the gigantic candy store, a bright, colorful shop called Honeydukes Sweetshop. There was an old boarded up joke shop formerly called Zonko's and according to a sign out front it was currently under construction.

I spotted the Three Broomsticks easily and briefly wondered if I shouldn't just head over to the post office and check out their bulletin board.

Deciding to just go in, I walked over and opened the creaky pub door.

The interior was warm and comfortable. There were several scuffed and highly polished booths and tables around the room, many of them empty. A long rectangular mirror hung over the bar, which undoubtedly had a very expensive Revelation Charm cast over it that was connected directly with the local Ministry sub-division to make sure known criminals, or those hidden behind spells, charms, and whatever else, did not enter the establishment. No doubt a new development.

The establishment's only customers were seated at a nearby table having a late lunch. An admittedly well-dressed couple, they only spared me a glance before returning to their conversation.

"Hello there, can I get you anything?" An older, busty woman asked me as I approached the bar.

"Actually I'm looking for work. I was told that you had a position available." I said slowly taking a seat on one of the stools.

"That we do. I'll have to have you fill out an application and send an owl to the Ministry." She warned, looking me steadily in the eyes as she poured me a glass of water.

"Of course."

"Right then. I'm Madam Rosmerta so you'll be answering to me if everything goes aright." She said, handing me the glass.

"Thanks. I'm Astrid." I said, taking the drink.

"Nice to meet you, Astrid. Now just let me nip around back before we start."

It only took her a moment to leave through a staff door and come back, a short scroll of parchment in hand.

"Here we are. Go ahead and fill this out while I see to that lot over there." She said, referring to a small group of older looking wizards who had just come through the door.

I nodded and took the offered quill she handed me.

The application was your standard wizard application. Have I ever had the green spots? Did I have any major magical allergies? Could I tell the difference between a glass that was half-full and half-empty? Have I ever been involved in any illegal activity?

Except for a few changes in my personal information, such as my name and address, I had little difficulty filling it out.

"Finished?"

"Yes." I said, handing it to her as she mixed the men a few drinks.

She ran her eyes across it and then seemed to blink, as if she'd misread something.

"You're a Sweetblood?" She asked suddenly, looking over at me with a newfound intensity.

Her reaction to my name spoke volumes about what sort of people my relatives had been. I'd have to ask Zabini about them later.

"Sorta. I just moved here recently from America to visit some distant relations of mine. My father just died recently so I was brought here to stay with my godparents, the Weasleys. They were very patient with me when I stayed with them over the summer." I said, stretching the truth a little.

"Oh so you're a Yank. I knew you were from somewhere. Well I'm sorry for your loss. I hope it all works out for you." She said losing a bit of her interest.

"Thanks. So–yeah. I changed my name to Sweetblood yesterday when I inherited a home from my mother. I never knew her. And I was told that her family had passed away sometime after she met my father." I explained, shifting in my seat a little.

"If you look under aliases I put down my former surname, Vanderhorn. I will answer to either." I said trying to change the direction of the interview.

"Okay." She read on, her eyebrows rising as she went over my qualifications and work experience.

"It says here you have nearly five years of waiting tables, at least two of those years spent working the bar at a place called, the Broken Wand." She said, her tone inflecting stern skepticism.

"Yes, Ma'am, that's correct." I admitted, nodding.

Her face took on the look of someone who knows their being duped and she arched an eyebrow at me as she wiped down the counter, the other hand gesturing with the application.

"Now I'm not too keen on muggle regulations, but even here you have to be at least seventeen before you are allowed to handle any drinks stronger than butterbeer."

"I understand. No, you see this was an informal business transaction. A friend's friend hired me and as long as I looked and acted responsibly they didn't care how old I was. The bartender quit one night in the summer of my third year and I had to take over until a replacement showed up. After that," I shrugged, "I guess they thought I was better at mixing drinks and working the register than walking the tables."

She seemed to consider me for a moment, running a critical eye over me.

"I can see why." She said bluntly, making my face warm a little to my utmost shame. Her lips quirked up in a smile as she noted my reaction and mercifully changed the subject.

"What were you're duties there exactly?" She asked, refilling one of her customer's mugs.

"At first I took orders and brought drinks to paying customers then I ultimately began handling the money and mixing the drinks. I know I'm young, but I do have experience. More experience probably than someone who's worked here for as long as I worked at the Broken Wand. It was a very–" I took a breath, "_adult_ environment. There were times when I found myself responsible for settling down the customers or diffusing heated arguments. Because of my experience you'll find me to be a very capable, dependable person. I am extremely confident in my ability to provide competent, and quality service for any being that walks in here." I finished firmly.

I had been watching her carefully while I tried to sell myself and relaxed inwardly with a gusty sigh of relief. Despite any misgivings she'd had, Madam Rosemerta was nevertheless impressed by my presentation.

_I so nailed it._

"Well—hold on a moment." She left to clear the couple's table and see to the gentlemen. More people were starting enter the pub and she quickly took their orders. When she came back she was still presenting me an uncertain face.

_But you're going to hire me anyway_, I thought smugly.

"Alright. I just don't fancy the thought of someone so young working behind the bar. I'd rather have you wait tables with the others, but..." She sighed heavily, considering my application again.

But she needed the help. It can be down right ugly when only one person it trying to work the register and mix the drinks.

"Others?" I asked politely, noticing that her eyes kept going back to my name.

_What's bothering her? Were they Death Eaters or something?_

"Yes, some other students came in yesterday looking for work too." She revealed absently.

"Oh." I forced myself to be patient while she 'made up her mind'.

Taking a drink from my glass to pass the time, I looked over the room. It was clean, warm, and welcoming. By the way the place was filling up I could assume they got a fair amount of business, especially after hours. But if that was the case where was everybody else? There should be at _least_ three people working both the tables and the bar.

"You'll have to do. When are you available?" The question brought my attention back to Madam Rosmerta and I set down my glass.

"I'll be available at any time after four. Except on weekends. On weekends I can come in around one. And then of course there's curfew but I'm not exactly sure when that is."

"I believe I was told working students have to be back inside the castle gates by ten-thirty. I have all the help I need for the weekends, so if you can work during the week from five to ten that would be perfect. I'd be willing to pay you a little more than the others seeing as you have experience. What do you say to nine Sickles an hour?"

_Hell yes I'll take that. That's about twel—no, thirteen Galleons a week!_

I checked myself and thought it over. The cost of living here could be higher than it was in the States, but even then she said she was going to pay me more than the other students...

_What the hell._

Besides, this could be the only job I can get if the Sweetbloods were Voldemort supporters.

"Sounds fine. When can I start?" I asked, standing up.

"Tomorrow. When you get here I'll go over my policy rules with you."

"Perfect. Thank you, Madam Rosemerta." I said respectfully, handing her back my glass as I rose.

"Of course. See you tomorrow Astrid."

"Bye." I almost felt sorry for her as she hurriedly turned away to deal with her ever increasing customers.

_She's probably used to it by now._

I left the tavern and strolled down the street a ways, looking for the post office. A small knot of relief loosened in my chest.

_Now I just have to find something to do on the weekends._

I spotted the post office and walked in. About three hundred owls greeted me, all of which were perched on color-coded shelves, the vibrancy and color depending on how fast you wanted your letter to travel.

Wandering over to the memo board, a wall alight with wiggling posted messages vying for attention, I began sorting through the wanted ads. I'd only been standing there for a couple minutes when a particular ad caught my eye. It'd been posted sometime this morning.

_**HELP WANTED!**_

_**Job pays 5G/hr.**_

_**Saturday-Sunday from 3pm-10pm**_

_**For more information contact:**_

_**Mr. and Mrs. Sappington**_

_**S.E. Underwood Lane**_

I'd do quite a few things for five Galleons an hour. I looked around for the letter materials and scribbled out the address on a crumpled up piece of parchment lying on the floor. I didn't have any money so I'd have to send it when I got back to school.

I left the post office quickly, wanting to get to school and send the owl as soon as possible. As I walked I did some mental calculations and smiled, scaring a couple of the owls. Working at the Three Broomsticks I'd be making roughly fifty-three Galleons a month. If I landed this job, whatever it was, I'd be making a total of nearly two hundred and eighty Galleons a month!

Granted, a large percentage would be taken away for tax purposes, but still that was _damn _good money.

* * *

When I arrived back at Hogwarts I asked for directions to the owlery and quickly wrote out a letter of interest for the ad on a new piece of parchment. As I copied the address off the back of the crumpled scrap I'd picked up off the floor of the post office, I noticed indentations on the back. I flipped it over but no words were visible. 

Deciding to puzzle it over later I pocketed it again and gave the finished letter to a cranky barn owl. After I'd done that I headed for the library, fully intending to continue researching that Rabble Shield.

Of course if I'd known what was waiting for me near the library I would have ran directly to my common room and warded my door.

As I turned down the corridor that led to the library I heard someone's muffled scream come from behind a door I'd just passed.

Frowning I stopped and slowly approached the door, wondering what the hell was going on in there. I waited for a moment outside the door but no other sounds reached my ears. I debated with myself for a moment before drawing my wand.

"_Absitde Foris_." I muttered, pointing it at the door. The entire door turned red for a moment and then just as quickly green. I shrugged off my bag and dropped it beside me, kicking it out of the way.

Taking hold of doorknob, I twisted the handle and pushed. It opened easily and the sounds of a fierce struggle reached my ears. Carefully stepping inside the classroom, I saw two older students engaged in what appeared to be an extracurricular activity I had a feeling was not allowed on school grounds. Or rather they were trying to, the girl still had her clothes on.

I recognized the boy as Joseph Throckmorten. It took me a second to realize he was actually wrestling with his apparently unwilling partner, who was fairly strong. She seemed determined to kill him or die trying if her expression was anything to go by.

Somehow he'd managed to secure her right arm to the floor with a poorly altered version of a Binding Charm. Even with both hands he was having serious difficulty pinning her to the ground.

Disgusted I lowered my wand, clearing my throat loudly to let him know I was in the room. When that didn't work I held my wand out in front of me and had it emit a short-lived blaring squeal reminiscent of a muggle firework known as the Roman Candle.

Throckmorten swore vehemently, covering his ears as he fell back off the furious pale haired girl I recognized from Charms this morning.

"Bloody _hell_ Sweetblood! Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Really. I hadn't noticed." I drawled, leaning against the doorframe. "If you were any stupider, Throckmorten, you'd have to be watered twice a week. Put your dick back in your pants and get the hell away from her. And here I was thinking Ron was the village idiot." I said making a tsking sound.

While I was baiting Throckmorten, the girl had freed herself. Taking advantage of the distraction she'd lunged beneath a nearby desk for her wand, which had been lost in the scuffle.

I now, with much satisfaction, watched her grimly approach her attacker as he proceeded to threaten me.

"…jumped-up halfblood. Why don't you bugger off before I decide to tell Malfoy what I overheard in the common room last night, eh? Wha— Merlin's balls woman!"

I laughed quietly as the girl hauled off and bloodied his nose and split open his eye for good measure. My laughter ended abruptly as I watched him leap forward and slam her into the wall.

Using his body weight, he backhanded her across the face so hard it bruised instantly. She cried out and my face darkened with remembered pain.

As he went for her again I abruptly pushed off from the doorframe and motioned angrily with my wand.

"_Morsus_!" The hex slammed into his side mid-strike, knocking him off his feet and to the floor, splintering a desk.

"Get up." I said mercilessly, jerking my wand towards the door.

He glared up at me from the floor, shaking all over as he held his side. Throckmorten made as if to draw his wand and I snarled incoherently, surprising him just enough so he hesitated.

I strode over to him and grabbed a hold of his shirt collar, wrenching him to his feet. I shoved him roughly out the door, my eyes hard and unforgiving. He stumbled and I helped him to the floor with a swift kick to his rear.

"Ahrg!"

He stared up at me from the flat of his back, his teeth bared in an angry mask of hatred as he clutched his side.

"You'll regret this Sweetblood! Filthy halfblooded Yank—KAAHHH!" I rammed one booted foot into his injured ribs and he just about sobbed out a plea.

_Serves you right you heavy-handed asshole!_

The hand I had thought to be clutching his side suddenly appeared from within the folds of his robes gripping his wand.

"_ICTUS_!" My eyes widened at the familiar dark curse and I jerked back, twisting out of the way. It hit the wall with a _crack_, fracturing the stone inlay.

I dodged behind a statue as he gritted his teeth and crawled over to the wall, using it as leverage to lift himself up.

Breathing heavily through my nose I swung around from behind the statue and stabbed my wand at him.

"_Caccus_!"

"Ah! I can't _see_!"

Throckmorten began firing spells wildly in his defense, hitting paintings and tapestries as he tried to guess my position. Ducking down behind the statue, I was only dimly aware of the shouts of surprise and alarm that rose up around us.

Taking advantage of his condition I stepped quickly from behind the statue and gestured with my wand.

"_Immob_-Ah!" Reacting quicker than I anticipated he sent a spell zinging towards my voice and managed to graze my shoulder.

"Sonofabitch!" It felt as if he'd gouged my arm with a red-hot poker. I felt if begin to blister and clenched my jaw, rolling to the side to avoid another spell.

"Hah! _Balbutio_!" He cried triumphantly, having regained his sight.

The Speech Impediment Jinx nearly hit me as someone shoved me forward. Stumbling, I lost my footing and yelled through gritted teeth as I caught myself with my injured arm.

"_Caligo_!" Someone from behind me cried, nailing me in the back. My head swam as the Gyrate Jinx set in, making everything wobble, roll, twist, and spin. The sickening sensation made my stomach churn. I lowered myself to my knees, hands splayed across the cold flagstones of the floor to assure myself I was on solid ground.

"_Finite Incantatem_!" Someone shouted. The jinx lifted instantly and I closed my eyes for a moment in relief.

My face deathly pale, I looked around the hall and noticed that the Ravenclaw girl with the pale hair was standing in front of me, wand a blur with the speed she was throwing her spells. I swallowed back bile, my throat burning as I tried to regain my equilibrium.

_Ugh. Who–? Ah. Maureen. Bitch._

She was standing next to a severely battered Throckmorten, who had summoned up some kind of copious orange fog, using it as a barrier between him and the Ravenclaw's spells. They weren't powerful enough to penetrate it, ricocheting off when they came into contact with the fog.

"Stand back." I rasped, getting to my feet.

Still green with nausea, I locked my eyes on the couple's bodies, shrewdly evaluating their proficiency. They weren't even half as skilled as the damn crash test dummy.

Disgusted that I'd let down my guard and allowed myself be bested by armatures, I started across the hall.

It was easy enough to avoid their curses and I rapidly covered the ground between us.

I could see the sweat beading on their brows as they began to panic, throwing everything they could at me as I disdainfully sidestepped, twisted, ducked, and spun away from their half-assed attacks.

_I shouldn't have vocalized. I guess practice always wins out. I'll have to work on that._

When I was close enough to touch the outside of the orange fog I lunged forward.

Maureen's eyes were the size of Galleons as I seized the front of her robes and thrust her towards Throckmorten. They both tumbled to the ground with surprised yells as I coolly pointed a finger at them.

Abruptly both were jerked violently off the ground by invisible hands. Maureen dropped her wand, screaming. Throckmorten was more tenacious and wrestled to free himself. I frowned, shaking him harder.

"MISS VANDERHORN!" An appalled voice tore through the corridor and disrupted my thoughts, breaking my concentration. Angry I spun around only to see a horror-stricken Professor McGonagall racing towards us.

Shouts and thuds brought my attention back to Maureen and Throckmorten. The Ravenclaw girl was already there, calmly nudging the groaning pair with her toe as she took possession of their wands.

"Enough! Stop that this instant! Miss Morgan what are you _doing_? Give me those! Both of you go—I said _that was enough_, Mr. Throckmorten! What—fine, go to the hospital wing, and take Miss McVeigh with you. As for _you_—Headmaster's office!"

I ignored her, too busy taking in the mess I'd made. Somehow in the last few minutes since I'd came down the corridor I had mutilated several paintings, blasted apart three statues, torn new holes in my robes, and jammed my finger.

Not to mention that I'd broken a few school rules, beat the shit out of a classmate, and completely lost my temper.

_And it's not even four o'clock yet. Huh._

"Fifty points from Slytherin!" Spluttered McGonagall, as I continued to admire my handy work. The whole thing felt a bit surreal. I took note of the students gathered in the library doorway, a few of them having unmistakably been caught in the crossfire.

I felt someone gently touch me on the arm and I looked over to see the Ravenclaw watching McGonagall worriedly. The professor had turned a dangerous shade of puce, her lips nearly non-existent so tight was her mouth. Storming towards us she grabbed each of us forcibly by the arm.

"NOW, Miss Vanderhorn! With any luck expulsion will be your only punishment! Never, in all my years of teaching…" She pushed us ahead of her, letting the Ravenclaw girl lead the way to Dumbldore's office.

* * *

"Rum rocks." McGonagall said to a large gargoyle when we arrived. The statue sprang to life, jumping aside to reveal a set of stairs that lead up to what I assumed was the Headmaster's office. 

"Go. I must see to the other students and that they are properly cared for." She said, exhaling heavily through her nose so her nostrils flared. She gave us one last blistering glare before heading back to the library.

I watched her go resentfully, gingerly rotating my shoulder.

_Grouchy old bat._

"Coming?" My eyes flickered over to the girl and then beyond her to the staircase.

"Yeah."

We silently climbed up the steps, blinking when they began to move upwards on their own.

At the top of the stairs was an open door leading to an impressive study. It was a large, circular room with windows in which I could make out the snowy peaks of distant mountain tops. Dumbledore looked up from some papers on his desk as we reached the door, his face kindly inquiring.

"Good afternoon ladies. You may have a seat if you wish." He said, indicating two high-backed chairs facing his enormous and highly polished desk.

I took a couple steps into the room before the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I froze instantly, not moving, barely even breathing as I caught sight of what was unmistakably a phoenix, albeit a sickly one, on a golden perch.

The once handsome bird was now a bent over, ugly lump of dull red feathers and skin. It flapped its wings warningly, flinging gray-tinged feathers everywhere and exposing numerous bare patches of skin where it had already begun to molt. What feathers it had left were ruffled aggressively. It made a strange growling noise in its throat as it cocked its head, peering at me sideways with one large distrustful eye.

I actually felt the blood drain from my head. My mouth became drier than the Gobi Desert as my eyes darted from its deadly hooked talons, the vicious beak, and back again to the large talons. They were undoubtedly sharper than hippogriff talons and powerful enough to sever my arm from my shoulder.

Without warning it suddenly burst into flames before my very eyes. I started with a shocked gasp, my heart leaping into my throat.

Dumbledore chuckled, apologizing for the bird's behavior.

"He's been looking like that for days now. I was wondering when he would keel over. Ah, yes. There he is." Dumbledore said fondly, watching as a small, skinny baby phoenix was reborn from the ashes of the old one.

Pale, and a little shaken I slumped into one of the chairs, covering my face with a hand as I collected myself.

_At least I came on a burning day. Ooh I hate animals._

"Care for a lemon drop?"

"I'd rather not." My partner declined, taking the seat next to me.

"Astrid?" Dumbledore asked, holding out the dish to me.

"No, thanks." I said, leaning back in my chair. I ran a hand through my hair and pointedly avoided their eyes as I stared up at the increasingly narrow ceiling. It was covered with portraits of several old witches and wizards, all of which were supposedly sleeping.

"Would you care to explain why Professor McGonagall brought you here?" He asked after a moment, politely curious.

_Like these damnable paintings haven't already told you._

I glared at the paintings accusingly, some of which had cracked open one of their eyes to watch the conversation. They hastily closed them again as they saw me watching, pretending to snore.

I snorted and looked over at the girl to see if she was going to answer that one. She studiously ignored me, tracing the grooves in the armchair's fabric.

_Guess not._

"Sure." I said with a noisy sigh, pushing myself into a sitting position. I rested my elbows on the armrests, lacing my fingers together.

"I was on my way to the library when I heard sounds coming from behind one of the doors. I went over to investigate and found Miss Morgan here," I nodded towards the Ravenclaw, "struggling beneath that piece of sh—ahem," I changed the colorful description into a cough, "beneath Mr. Throckmorten. I made my presence known after realizing that the physical activity was not consensual. After that, I advised him to leave her alone. He refused and told me to 'bugger off'. When I didn't he threatened me."

"Ah. Miss Morgan do you mind me asking how you came to be alone with Mr. Throckmorten?" Dumbledore asked gently, his eyes sad.

"Yes. I do."

He nodded his head slowly, shoulders rising silently in a heavy sigh.

"Very well. Continue please, Astrid."

"Somewhere in there Miss Morgan freed herself and physically attacked that bas-ahem, Mr. Throckmorten." I heard a disapproving sniff and frowned. My eyes alighted on a rather frumpy witch in frilly robes above Dumbledore's head.

"…Such foul language, it's shameful!" Her curly white hair bounced as she leaned over into a neighboring frame of another witch, both shaking their heads. I glared at the two women, my jaw taking on a stubborn cast.

At least I'd been making the effort!

"So," I said pointedly, staring straight at the two witches, "the bastard turned around and backhanded her right across the face."

"Astrid." Dumbledore said, a light reproof in his voice as he gazed at me over his spectacles. My mouth tightened. Not acknowledging the warning I continued.

"You can still see the beau he left on her face. Honestly, I'm surprised she can still open that eye." She turned towards me with her brows furrowed.

"By this time tomorrow you'll be lucky if you can eat for the pain." I told her neutrally, meeting her eyes for a moment before looking away as old memories rose to the forefront of my mind.

_**"Did Kevin do this?" Bridget demanded, having caught sight of the ugly purple welt covering the left side of my face.**_

_**"No. A kid threw a brick at me for scaring his dog at the playground yesterday." A much younger me lied convincingly.**_

Shoving the past away, I cleared my throat and went on with the story.

"At that point it became personal and I—I lost my temper. He managed to graze my shoulder, distracting me while Maureen," I spat out the name, "surprised me from behind. I wasn't thinking too clearly after that. I knew I had to disarm them so I caught them up in a spell that shook them until they dropped their wands. Around that time McGonagall showed up and tossed us in here while she sent the other two the hospital wing where I'm sure they're telling a very different story."

There were light footsteps behind me and Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in greeting.

"Ah, Severus."

I twisted around in my seat to see a sour faced Professor Snape gazing steadily back at me, holding two rather battered schoolbags in one hand which he promptly released so they fell to the floor with dull thuds.

"Miss Sweetblood," he bagan, "Mr. Throckmorten has informed me that out of jealousy you attacked both him and Miss Morgan, hitting him in the side with a curse that dislocated two of his ribs, bruising a third when you kicked him in the side when he fell. Miss McVeigh claims to have a minor concussion and a sprained ankle from the fall she took. Any thoughts as to how you should be punished?" He asked coolly.

_Hundreds._

"Out of jealousy? Please spare me, Professor. I believe I made my lack of interest painfully clear to him this morning during breakfast at the table. He's clearly still feeling the sting of my rejection." I said, satisfaction coloring my voice.

"Maureen on the other hand is guilty of the crime Throckmorten is pushing on me. She's just bitter because _her crush likes _me_ and not her_." I said in a patronizing tone that showed my contempt for her juvenile behavior.

"I see." He looked up at the Headmaster for a moment.

"However they promise that their families will be pressing charges unless Miss Sweetblood is dealt with appropriately. Preferably expulsion."

Dumbledore tapped his steepled fingers together as he took this in.

I tensed in my chair, watching him think. If they were going to expel me for merely dislocating that boy's ribs–! I would at least have made the punishment fit the crime and broken both his arms and chopped off his little friend.

_If anyone should be expelled it should be the rapist in training. Not the damn rescuer!_

"And me, sir?" The Ravenclaw asked quietly.

"You acted only under the influence of a Confundus Charm." Professor Snape said tersely.

_Right. Confundus Charm. They can't possibly believe that bullshit._

I looked over at Dumbledore. I knew he thought I hadn't handled the situation properly. He no doubt would have preferred that I'd gone to get help or reported the situation to a teacher rather than handle the problem myself.

_Not a chance. _

He needed to be punished, and damn it, the teacher were more likely to slap his wrist.

"I fail to see the justice in punishing only Miss Sweetblood when all four students share part of the blame." Dumbledore said after a moment.

"I agree, Headmaster. I suggest the loss of all Hogsmead privileges and a weeks worth of detention for Mr. Throckmorten. Miss McVeigh and Miss Morgan can join him in detention. As for Miss Sweetblood, I think something else would be more appropriate." Professor Snape said silkily, turning his head to look at me.

I groaned slightly._ Please don't make me stock potions._

A sly smirk spread across my Head of House's face as he turned to Dumbledore.

"According to her school file, Miss Sweetblood has shown herself to be an exceptional potions assistant."

_Damn it all!_

"Her previous instructor took it upon herself to contact me personally to discuss Miss Sweetblood's talent for potions."

I felt as though I'd just been hit over the head with a two-by-four. Professor Varner had contacted my Head of House and said _good _things about me?

"Excellent idea, Severus. Starting next week Miss Sweetblood will be responsible for holding a remedial potions class for your younger students. We have more new first years coming from muggle families than ever before. If I remember correctly it was mentioned that they could hardly be expected to set up a cauldron correctly."

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No. Can't even set up—I'm going to die!_

"Remedial potions with first years? If those ham-fisted, deadheads can't even set up a cauldron imagine—they could seriously hurt someone. How many snot-nosed brats are we talking about here?" I asked, my voice slightly panicked.

"A full class." Professor Snape said, looking over at Dumbledore, who raised his eyebrows as if understanding something for the first time.

"Yes. That sounds highly appropriate. This will give you a chance to include words more suitable for a young lady in your vocabulary." He said, giving me a stern look over the tops of his half-moon spectacles.

I lifted my eyebrows in disbelief and ran a hand over my face before sighing in painful resignation. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at me in delight.

"Excellent. Then for the rest of the year you will take over all of Professor Snape's first-years every Wednesday and Friday." That made my head snap up.

"Wha-what! How did we go from remedial to actual class? And what do you mean _for the rest of the year_? I still have classes of my own." I spluttered.

"According to your schedual the only class you'll have conflicts with is history. Therefore you will have to discuss your problem with Professor Binns. I highly doubt he will even notice your absence." Professor Snape said, looking to the Headmaster for approval.

"But the whole year?" I asked, mouth open in disbelief.

"It is either that or expulsion." He said unmercifully, black eyes narrowing.

I clenched my jaw and looked away, unwilling to admit that I'd rather teach first years than leave Hogwarts. It was all I had going for me.

_I suppose with any luck it'll look good on my Auror transcript_, I thought, caving in.

"Fine. I'll do it." I said sourly, crossing my arms and legs as I slumped down in my chair to pout.

"It's settled then. Professor Snape will give you the lesson plans for his first years tonight so you may go over them in preparation for tomorrow."

"_Tomorrow_? I thought you said next week!" I exclaimed.

"Did I? How embarrassing. I'm afraid my memory is not quite what it used to be." Dumbledore said confidingly, his eyes twinkling.

I snorted, getting to my feet.

_Yeah, uh-huh sure._

"Right. Is that everything?"

"Yes, you may go. Severus, please make sure these young ladies find their way to the hospital wing." Hearing the dismissal I snatched up my bag and quickly lead the way down the stairs.

There was little conversation on the way to the hospital wing. I spent most of my time cursing Throckmorten and resenting Professor Snape. The punishment was almost a compliment, saying that he had confidence in my ability to teach his first years.

_Almost._

Just the thought of having to teach whinny, scabby little first years how to brew a potion had me cringing.

We quickly reached the third floor and I blinked at the number of students that were waiting around the double doors to the hospital wing. There were only a couple handfuls of them and they all turned to stare at us as we came down the corridor. Professor Snape ignored them and impatiently led us through the doors and into the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was patching up students and handing them cups of nasty yellow goop before shooing them out the door.

"You again!" She fumed, seeing me for the first time as I took a seat on one of the beds.

"Professor Dumbledore insisted that they come. Miss Sweetblood, I will see you later tonight to discuss your situation. Professor Binns's classroom is just down the hall from here if you should decide to see him. And fifty points for taking on the task." He said smirking.

"Thank you Professor." I nodded my thanks and he swept out the door, taking five points from a young Hufflepuff girl as he did.

I saw the Ravenclaw girl shake her head.

"What?" I asked, carefully peeling off my robe as Madam Pomfrey shooed the rest of the kids out.

"I just wish Professor Flitwick favored us as Snape does his Slytherins." She said, taking a seat across from me on a slightly rumpled bed.

My lips quirked and I shrugged with one shoulder.

"This is ridiculous! I knew you were accident prone, but this is just _ridiculous_!" Madam Pomfrey repeated as she bustled over.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just fix it and give me something for my scars." I said, shifting on the bed so she could get a better look at my shoulder. My lips drew tight as the air smarted against my skin.

"Good heavens! Minerva mentioned something about a duel but this…" She suddenly glared at me as if it was my fault the skin on my shoulder was charred black.

"I sent the other two out just before you got here. The girl was fine and the boy had a broken nose, two cracked ribs and a dislocation. I suppose he did this to you?" She said, lips pursed as she pulled back my shirt.

"The difference is that he deserved it. Cracked ribs you say? Huh." I shared a look with the girl, who only smiled wryly.

"Yes."

"Well that makes me feel much better. Hey that _hurts_!" I exclaimed, trying not to jerk away from her as she jabbed her wand into my shoulder.

"Oh, it does not. Now just sit there for a minute—_sit_! If you don't sit I won't give you anything for your back, understand?"

Reluctantly I sat, glowering at her while she turned to see to the Ravenclaw chit. It only took her a moment to mend the purpling welt and she went to get the potion.

"Here. That's all I have so you better use it appropriately. Now, I don't want to see you in here again, Miss Vanderhorn." She said, shooing us out the door.

"Oh but you will." I said.With a humph, she slammed the door closed behind us.

"And we were getting along so well." I said sarcastically.

"I could tell." My companion said dryly, running a hand over her cheek. She opened and closed her jaw experimentally.

"Which one is Binns's classroom?" I asked as we headed down the corridor.

"That one." I stopped and peered into the room she had pointed at.

A ghost was sitting at rather dusty desk reading out of a tomb to twenty empty seats, apparently haven't yet noticed that class had ended.

"Hello, professor? Professor?" The ghost stopped, blinking as if surprised by the interruption.

"Yes?" He asked in a dull monotonous voice. I winced. Yeah, I defiantly wouldn't be missing this class.

"Starting tomorrow I will be taking over Professor Snape's first year classes so I won't be able to make it to class for the rest of the year."

_Just thought you should know._

"Oh." He said. I waited for him to say more but nothing came.

"Okay then. Uh, could you just give me a sheet with the dates of when the tests will be so I can come in sometime during the day and take them?" He blinked a few more times before nodding.

"Alright then." I left him there and continued on down the hall towards the main marble staircase.

"Is it true? What you said about Allman?" The girl asked suddenly.

"What? About him liking me? Eh, yeah. But the interest is not shared, you can trust that."

"Didn't think so. You don't seem like the kind of person to fall for a twat like that. He is quite a looker though isn't he?" She asked with a wink.

I snorted and chose not to state the obvious but provide an explanation for my hostile feelings.

"His family has an interest in real-estate and I happen to have a rather large amount of it." I said as we went down the stairs, several eyes and whispers following me.

"Doesn't surprise me. His parents are greedier than goblins and are about as intelligent as flubberworms."

"Friends of the family?" I asked smirking slightly.

"I wish." She said, heaving a sigh.

"Relatives then?" I stated more than asked.

"Yes. By the way, I believe this—is yours." She said, pulling out a short, fine-grained mahogany wand from her robe pocket.

I locked eyes with her as I took back my wand.

"Thanks." I said slowly, eyes cautious.

_I must have dropped it when the Bitch hit me. I wonder if she realizes I didn't use a wand for that. Not that it would be terrible if anyone found out, but it's an advantage if no one knows. I can take them by surprise._

She shrugged.

"I won't say anything if that's what's got your knickers in a twist." She said as we approached the main staircase leading down to the entrance hall.

_Knickers in a twist? Nice._

"Thanks." I said dryly. She laughed, pausing at the top of the stairs.

"Right. Well I'll see you around."

"Later then, I'm off to the library." I said, raising a hand as she started off down the stairs.

"Cheers." She said in parting.

When she was gone I frowned, running my fingers over my wand thoughtfully. If I was her I wouldn't have made any sort of promises to keep it a secret.

_Perhaps that's why I'm in Slytherin and she's not._

I nodded, smiling a bit at the thought, and navigated my way towards the library. I wasn't usually a big fan of homework and firmly believed that the only important days were test days.

_But now everyday seems to be a test day._

It was difficult finding my way back. Nothing looked the same, not the paintings, the statues, or the stairs. Even the doors had shuffled themselves since I'd been in Dumbledore's office.

I asked for directions and eventually found my way there. The under fed vulture was too busy glowering at a small group of boys so I wove my way to the back of the library without being harangued.

As I went to settle down at a table near the Herbology section my backpack split open, dumping my books, quills, ink, and parchment on the floor. I swore as the inkbottle hit the corner of a book and shattered.

_I should've Charmed it!_

Grumbling, I began gathering up my things, quickly vanishing most of the ink covering my Charm's and Healer's books, though there would be some permanent damage. As I crouched down to collect the rest of my shit I heard a couple boys talking just on the other side of a bookcase behind me.

"Check out the talent! Wouldn't mind having a bit of How's Your Father with that one."

"The Yank?"

"No, the bint behind her. Yes the Yank, you idiot. Bloody hell."

Having spent the summer in a houseful of men and boys (Tonks, and the other two aside) I wasn't oblivious to what 'How's Your Father' consisted of. It was just one of those odd British terms for having sex. As to the 'Yank' reference they'd shot my way, I had a feeling that was going to be a permanent association.

_But what the hell is a bint?_

"I heard that posh git from Durmstrang fancies her."

"The prat walking towards her?"

As if on cue Allman crouched down beside me, handing me a couple quills I'd missed. I glared at him.

"Here, you dropped these."

_No, really? I hadn't noticed._

"Thanks." I said tersely, pocketing the quills and putting the parchment in my books. I slung my empty bag over my shoulder and stood, stumbling somewhat as I tripped over the library book. Thankfully it hadn't gotten any ink on it.

Reacting as if I was about to fall flat on my face, Allman reached out to 'catch' me. A look of disgusted annoyance flashed across my face as one of his hands skated over my chest to grab my arm, the other resting on the small of my back.

_Honestly._

"Careful. _Reparo_. _Scourgify_. _Accio_."

I caught the empty inkbottle as he pocketed his wand, sliding the hand on my back down till it wrapped around my waist as he did so.

"Um, no." I said, removing his hand.

"Astrid, c'mon. That bastard didn't know what bloody hell he was talking about. My father is a mean old codger and while he'd probably be very pleased to know I liked you, that doesn't mean anything. After all, I was interested in you even before Professor Crownheart announced that you are a Sweetblood." He said, voice low and earnest as he followed me to the table.

"Bullshit." I said, setting down my books.

"I didn't want to tell you because I thought you'd do this and I was right."

"Look you spineless, good for nothing, piece of British shit! The fact of the matter is that you lied. Period. End of story." I said whispered heatedly, taking out my quills.

I normally carried seven quills with me, having a strange habit of always displacing, or breaking at least four of them throughout the day. Today I'd only lost two.

"Only because I was afraid you'd castrate me."

"Don't tempt me. I'm not interested in you're excuses so get lost. I have to find a medical dictionary." I hissed, moving off down the nearest isle.

"Would you mind if I joined you?" Large, warm hands grasped my hips, pulling me backwards against a similarly large solid body. I tensed, my eyes flying open in horrified surprise.

"Malfoy's watching." He whispered near my neck, causing my skin to prickle uncomfortably as I tried to shove him off me.

"I don't give a flying—!" I began loudly, turning my head to glare at him only to be cut off by a bruising kiss.

_Oh._

Shocked, I let him turn me around and pin me against the front of a bookcase. I felt my knees give and, surprised by my reaction, I clutched the front of his robes for support. I struggled with enjoying the moment, and at the same time, the urge to clock him while he continued to do…whatever it was he was doing with his hands.

_What the hell. I blame stress, _I said to myself. What the kiss was doing to my hormones was too tempting to resist.

"Just an acquaintance, Astrid?" A voice asked slyly from somewhere nearby. I stiffened, my eyes snapping open as I realized that while this was fun, it probably wasn't the best place to be—socializing.

_Especially with Allman. _

Zabini, accompanied by Malfoy and some other Slyterin boys had just entered the library, coming up behind us.

"What else?" I said, pushing Allman away from me so I could step away from the bookcase.

He didn't move. My former interest in our extracurricular activity gone, I gave him a black look. His head was turned away from me as he stared at Malfoy, his jaw clenched.

I looked too and felt my raging pulse suddenly freeze. It wasn't Malfoy he was looking at but the man standing behind him.

_Aw, shit._

"Do you _want_ something Professor?" Allman asked silkily, laying a possessive hand around my waist.

Sarlow looked as if he wanted to _Avada_ Allman right then and there if his threatening posture was anything to go by.

"Yes, I want you all to conduct yourselves appropriately. Twenty points from Slytherin for inappropriate displays of affection."

I realized Allman must have noticed Sarlow staring at me during Crownheart's sorting.

_But so what? Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't indulge myself once in a while._

Allman sneered at him and Sarlow's eyes narrowed.

"Do I need to inform Filch that you kindly volunteered to clean the chamber pots for the night?" Sarlow asked steadily.

Grumbling, Allman started for the door and tried to pull me along, but I held back.

"Come on." He said obviously not too keen on leaving me here alone.

I looked at him as if he'd just grown two heads.

"You must be joking." I said, turning around to continue searching the shelves.

"Astrid, c'mon. I'm serious." He muttered, not wanting anyone to overhear our argument.

"No. I'm not interested, Allman. While fun, I don't think this conversation is good for our continued health. Yours more specifically. I don't like you, I don't trust you, and I don't want to play anymore. Good day to you." I said pointedly, walking away.

If he thought I was a brainless ninny easily won over by a kiss he had another thing coming. Preferably two things, actually: a wand and a fist.

_I mean shit, I'm not an idiot. He kissed me for a reason. As much as I hate to admit it, he's not a complete moron._

"Astrid—"

"I said good day!" I snapped over my shoulder. Frustrated, he made a face before reluctantly sulking away, glaring at Sarlow as he passed.

When I came back with a stack of five books, two floating behind me, Sarlow was waiting for me at my table. I groaned, noticing the odd looks he was getting from a few girls sitting nearby.

"What?" I asked tiredly, taking the chair across from him and propping open one of my books.

"I was wondering if you intended on telling me that my attentions were no longer welcome."

"I didn't realize you were so attached ." I commented, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill to take notes on the anatomy of humans.

"Neither did I. Does it bother you?"

"Yes, as does Allman." I replied honestly.

"Well then, good day to you Miss Vanderhorn." He said maturely, getting to his feet.

My respect for him rose slightly. I hadn't expected him to take it as well as he did, most boys didn't.

_But isn't a boy._

A strange urge to say something to him as he pushed in his chair and headed towards the doors overcame me.

"Professor?" I called after him.

"Yes?" He turned slightly.

"Would you consider assigning Allman detention anyway?"

He didn't smile but I saw the tension in his shoulders ease.

"Perhaps."

I allowed myself to give him a small, brief smile.

"Till Monday then Professor."

He nodded and I watched him walk away with an fluttering feeling in my chest. I rubbed the area, pinning it on that funny looking pear I'd eaten at lunch. I shook my head and set to concentrating on the book in front of me. I read the first few lines and leaned forward to uncork my inkbottle.

"Damn, I don't have any ink." I realized frowning. I looked over at the nearby Ravenclaw girls and pursed my lips thoughtfully.

A second later I rose to ask one of them for an inkbottle.

"Hey, do have any ink I can borrow?" I asked a girl with braided hair.

She shook her head and looked at her neighbor.

"Er, well I don't. Sandra?"

Sandra looked up from the book she'd buried her nose in. She had small wire-framed glasses that hid curious gray eyes. Glancing up at me she nodded.

"Sure, Mandy, hand me my book bag. Yes, we have Defense Training together. Professor Emry's partnered you with Mandy and I for this unit. So…" The girl shrugged, handing me the inkbottle.

I recognized the willowy girl, Mandy, as one of the particularly modest girls from the locker room. The others were only taking the dueling portion of the class.

"Okay, thanks. Uh, if you guys want to get together and practice sometime by yourselves that would be fine with me. I won't be able to do anything after class from now on unless you catch me in the morning." I said drawing my wand to spell the bottle.

"I've already Charmed it don't worry."

"Alright then, thanks."

"Uh-huh." She said, her nose already stuck in between whatever she was reading.

I went back to my table and referred to my Healer's book. During class I'd scribbled notes and such into the margins because I'd been too lazy to actually lean over and get parchment out of my bag. In all honesty I would probably end up drawing pictures as I read, not taking any notes at all.

_But it's not like I really need to though. As long as I read the material I should be fine._

The girls at the Institute had hated me for my memory. Hated me, hated me, _hated_ me. They would study for hours and days at a time to get the marks they did. Even the girls I'd never talked to had grumbled about my scores after exams. How could someone who slept through every class, and never turned in homework, ace the exams?

I'd had a few teachers out right flunked me for cheating. Of course no amount of flunking could deny the fact that my O.W.L scores were excellent. I smiled smugly at the thought.

"At least I won't have to worry about studying for history." I muttered to my textbook as I turned the page.

* * *

I avoided Allman and the others at dinner, deciding I was better off eating in the kitchens with the house elves. Their wobbly, high voices had me gritting my teeth but that was better than sitting near Allman, or worse, Maureen and Throckmorten. I might not have been able to contain myself in their presence. 

Unable to take the bowing and scraping for too long though, I finished my plate quickly, taking some food with me back to the common room. Not too long after that I was spelling the curtains and pulling my blankets over my head. I'd need all the sleep I could get if I was going to teach first years tomorrow.

As that foggy thought filtered into my mind I felt my stomach clench. I'd forgotten all about the meeting with Snape.

* * *

**(A/N)**

**Hey I just fixed a couple things here and there. I can't believe it's already April. Sorry for the lack of new chapters, check my profile for a full apology.**

**Tired as hell, the author.**

**PS: Thanks out to Lana, Sam, and wolves-eyes. I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and has a Happy New Year.**

**Also, I now **accept anonymous reviews** for you lazy gits out there. I'd forgotten I had that feature disabled. **

**Thought you'd like that, the author**


	15. Low Impulse Control

"**The definition of diplomacy is being able to tell a person to go to hell in such a fashion that they actually look forward to the trip." –My Grandmother**

* * *

**Chapter 15**

_Doing _his_ paper work, teaching _his_ students…_

A massive headache was forming directly behind my eye sockets. I closed my eyes and momentarily rubbed my forehead. The pressure was steadily building as I drew nearer to my last lesson of the day: first year potions.

I'd spent half the night sitting in a stiff, straight-backed wooden chair listening to Professor Snape lecture me about teaching first year students and possible situations I might find myself in due to their stupidity. Leaking and exploding cauldrons, which could contain permanently deforming substances, fume poisoning, shattered vials, unauthorized potion testing, severe allergic reactions…potion ingredients in the hands of a bunch of morons could give a person nightmares.

After that dreadfully _enlightening_ conversation, I couldn't help but admire the man. No wonder he was such an asshole. If I had to hover over incompetent students handling potentially volatile ingredients, I'd be pissed too.

_I'm a little more than pissed, actually._

The headache laying siege to my brain gave a painful throb. I could almost pity the unsuspecting eleven year olds waiting for me in my classroom.

_My classroom. _I rolled the world around in my mouth. It tasted sour.

Professor Snape had supplied me with my own room and supplies in case I should screw up. He didn't want me digging around in his supplies and scuffing up his desk. That was his area and to be frank, I was immensely relieved. The thought of using his desk and personal area made me uneasy. It would have been invading his privacy and both of us were adamant about maintaining that privacy. I didn't need to know anything about my Head of House than what was absolutely necessary.

Though the room was located a few damp passageways over from Professor Snape's, there was little difference between them. Other than the reinforced charms and spells protecting the equipment in my room, they might have been identical.

Walking purposely down the hall and toward the door behind which twenty-two students were whispering nervously to each other as they awaited the notorious Head of Slytherin, I smiled grimly.

_After the morning I've had, I doubt it'll be Professor Snape they cringe from in the hallways anymore._

With next to no sleep, I'd half-assed my morning run before slumping into a seat in Professor Snape's double potions class. To top off an already shity morning, I'd been partnered with an incompetent twat named Crab who kept trying to grab my ass.

Faced with snickering sixth years and a pointedly oblivious professor, I'd finally petrified the knuckle-dragging ape in his seat. The girls, Gryffindor and Slytherin alike, who'd witnessed my subtle solution, had gazed at each other as if to say "Why didn't we ever think of that?"

Of course Malfoy had taken a personal affront to the treatment of his bodyguard and had surreptitiously tried to trip me up several times in class. His cohort, Throckmorten, had repeatedly attempted to fling incongruent objects such as quills and locus wings into my cauldron. Maureen and that Pansy girl had set up their lab behind me while I deflected his missiles.

I gritted my teeth as I approached my classroom door, thinking about the snotty comments they'd directed my way throughout the entire class period and on through lunch. The scene in the library had clearly cemented everyone's belief that Allman and I were "an item".

_In his wet dreams._

But, thankfully, I wouldn't be seeing much of him. As a seventh year, Allman wouldn't be taking any of my classes except Defense, Health, and Charms (apparently the Durmstrang charms instructor had disappeared unexpectedly halfway through his sixth year so he was retaking it here at Hogwarts).

He had wisely kept his distance during lunch, however, limiting himself to only the occasional mock-hungry stare to keep everyone convinced that the rumors were indeed true.

Just by this simple action he'd effectively slapped a "Property of Allman" sticker on my forehead. Envious eyes from the female population followed me along with snide comments about my virtue. Not because we were going out, but because Allman had felt the need to point out the new Defense teacher's unusual interest in me. I'd prudently hexed his mouth shut after that.

_Just one more class, then I can leave and go to work._

Ever since I'd crash-landed in Europe, I'd somehow gone from a hideous, black-hearted bitch to the sexy, bad-ass Yank. How or when the change occurred, I don't know.

Nor did I really care. If anything, it served as a powerful deterrent for half-grown jerk-offs. Simply being perceived as attractive somehow daunted boys. I had a sneaking suspicion that my looks hadn't changed, simply my disposition. Relying on myself and knowing I was in control of my life from now on had made me confident. I was also harder and colder. Well, perhaps not physically cold. The corners of my mouth kicked up as I thought of the library incident.

Instead of refuting the rumors I decided to take advantage of them. People would underestimate me and make assumptions. So much the better. I could hide behind that identity and keep my personal life, well, personal. No one needed to know that the farthest I'd ever gone with a boy was a sloppy kiss on the lips.

As far as I'm concerned, the possibility of me ever dating is slim to none. The girls at the Institute wore their boyfriends like merit badges. I just didn't see the thrill in letting a boy grope you and buy you ice cream. Grouping was what apes did, and I could buy my own ice cream, thank you very much.

I'd heard girls talk about emotional support, but they had identity and confidence issues. Only spineless, worthless slobs depended on other people to take care of their problems. Being responsible for one's choices as well as one's mistakes was a sign of maturity.

So then what was the point of having a boyfriend?

_There isn't any. Damn my head hurts. I hope the little shits aren't as horrible as he said. The first one that tries to challenge my authority..._At this point I couldn't even articulate my thoughts my mood was so black.

Professor Snape had assured me they'd try to goad me. I didn't doubt it. After all, I was only a sixth year. They'd try to push me around and manipulate me unless I did something about it. Drawing nearer to the door, a ruthless smile curved my lips. I'd made sure to be late today so I didn't have to wait around until they all found the classroom. No use in allowing them to examine me before I could issue orders.

_Oh how they're going to hate me._ The thought was almost a happy one.

Readjusting the book bag across my shoulder, I didn't bother to slow down or stop as I approached the door.

With a silent command, I sent the door crashing open. Several cries of alarm preceded me as I strode into the room. Not bothering to look at the kids, I threw down my bag before whipping out my wand and gesturing sharply to the blackboard behind me.

An uncompromising list of rules appeared in harsh white chalk. Without pausing, I slammed the door shut with a quick gesture of my freehand and simultaneously aimed my wand towards the small cauldrons I'd set up the night before. Small blue flames appeared beneath them to heat up the water.

Standing behind my desk, I conjured up the roll sheet. The room's silence could be compared to the darkest recesses of the lake. I swiftly went down the list, calling out names and matching faces to them as the students answered.

"Where's Professor Snape?" One surly Slytherin asked after I banished the clipboard.

My eyes narrowed and the boy shifted slightly in his seat before adding, "Ma'am."

"Would someone capable of reading," I began, not bothering to hide my disgust, "please inform Mr. Mallory why I am here? Anyone?"

The class cast apprehensive gazes around the room, waiting for someone else to give the obvious answer. A boy near the back of the room with car doors for ears raised his hand hesitantly.

_It would be a Gryffindor._

"Mr. Cornell?"

"Professor Snape asked you to supervise his first year classes for the rest of the year as punishment for severely injuring a classmate." The boy obediently read off the blackboard.

Why hide the truth when it could only help? It'd show them I'm not below bodily harm.

"Exactly. I have no choice _but_ to be here. I'll be honest with you: I hate Potions. But my loathing for incompetence and stupidity surpass that hatred. Some of you don't even have the faintest clue of what potion brewing entails. That's what I'm here to fix. From here on out, I will be grilling you on the dangers of potion making and safety precautions that, with any luck, will keep you from killing not only yourself but your fellow students and myself as well.

This is not a game. Carelessness and arrogance is, and will be, a serious detriment to your health here. One mistake could spell death. Deadly fumes or explosions could kill at least one of you before I could stop the rouge potion. Potion making is a serious business and any attempt at horseplay will only end badly for those involved. Do I make myself clear?"

Some had their eyes wide with fear, while others traded bored glances with their friends. I snapped my fingers and the boys whispering at the back of the class found they couldn't speak.

"_Do I make myself clear_?" My voice was like liquid ice though head was throbbing painfully. The students seemed to notice my escalating irritability and responded in subdued stereo.

"Yes Professor."

"Good. Now for some of you muggle borns, Potion brewing may remind you of cooking. Those of you who do not understand this analogy, I suggest you to ask someone who does." I said curtly, sending a quelling stare at the protesting Slytherins.

The protesting didn't die fast enough and I concentrated, snapping my fingers. A loud, reverberating _crack_, a sound reminiscent of a sharply struck cane across a desktop, made everyone jump.

_Hmm. No wonder Professor Vicker carried a cane around with her. Interesting._

One of my previous professors, my Herbology teacher to be exact, had found great joy in soundly rapping my group table with her cane when I tried to sleep through class. Of course she hadn't always hit the desk and quick reaction time hadn't always spared me from a sharp rap across my hands or head.

The room was still now except for the hiss of boiling water. Sufficiently subdued, the gulping first years gazed up at me with wide, and yes, resentful eyes from where I stood behind my desk.

_Good. I'm not here to be their friend._ It was true, but a small part of me felt strangely tired. I ignored that part.

"This is not a democracy. Do _not_ push me. Unlike your other teachers, I am not bound by normal school regulations and have no problem sending you from my classroom like the worthless little shits you are." Several of the students gasped in shock, focusing on my vocabulary and not on what I was saying.

I continued on, frustrated with their response. Cursing in here would be more of a distraction and hindrance than a help.

_The Headmaster knew that too. Damnable man._

"Let there be no misunderstanding in this," I continued, "once you walk out that door, there will be no coming back. How you explain your failing grade and attendance to your parents is _not_ my problem." I said. I paused here, letting that little bit of information sink in.

Of course, none of what I'd said was exactly true. Professor Snape would skin me alive if parents began sending him hate mail because of his new assistant. But the students didn't need to know that.

"Now put your wands away and turn to page twelve."

* * *

"Do you want a detention, Mr. Mallory, or are you just an idiot?" I yelled, snatching the vial of monkshood root from his raised hand.

"An idiot." Someone snickered.

"Can it, Mr. Cornell." I snapped, still glaring at my belligerent housemate. "Please read all five lines of the recipe, Mr. Mallory. Is the ingredient monkshood root in there? No, it's not. This is a simple Dye Potion. You only job is to make sure you add the right ingredients in the order they are listed then stir for two minutes."

"Yes, Ma'am." The boy said sullenly to his desk as I loomed over him.

"Mr. Mallory, you've been working on this potion for twenty minutes and it's not even close to being finished." I swept back to the front of the room, clenching my fingers around the vial. He could have botched the whole potion and run screaming from the room after it exploded.

_Idiot!_

"Class is over in five minutes. If your group's potion isn't bottled and on my desk before then, those groups will be doing an extra six inches on the homework I'll be assigning you all tonight." They started to protest and I snapped my fingers.

The sharp _crack_ silenced them.

"I will not tolerate whining. If you whine, the entire class will be assigned yet another six inches. Understood? And make sure everyone's name is on the label." I said, irritated that I'd even have to tell them that. "If not, the whole group will get a zero."

When the bell rang five minutes later only one group had to do the extra homework. I watched them all file out the door before collapsing in my chair. Hovering over them hadn't been as dreadful as I thought, but I was still frustrated. I did not want to teach first years. They whined constantly and asked the stupidest questions. They needed to get the idea that I would do their potions for them out of their head.

I'd even done a demonstration before turning them loose on their own. Sighing, I waved my hand and vanished the contents of the cauldrons and put out the fires.

"And I have to do this again on Friday." Making a disgusted face, I opened my desk drawer and tossed the vial of powdered monkshood root in there.

I glanced up at the clock over the door and growled. I still had an hour before I had to be at work. "Fine. Might as well grade these while I have time…"

* * *

"Afternoon, Astrid. I'd say it was good but you're looking none too happy." Rosemerta remarked, wiping down the counter.

"Yeah." I said, not caring to explain. It was nearly five and the place was starting to fill up. I followed Rosemerta behind the bar and took the lap apron she handed me, ditching my school robes.

"Let's see you work the bar. I'll tell you the general policies as we go."

"Alright." I said, tying the apron strings tight.

Though the flood of customers was slow at first, as the night wore on it got steadily worse. I found myself remembering longer orders and mixing drinks I'd never even thought to make before. The rules were pretty much the same: Smile, collect the money, mix the drink, and smile again.

Nobody ever ordered food, since the cook left at four every day. My co-workers were nice enough. One was Rosemerta's nephew, Marcus, a quiet, gangly twenty-something with brown hair. He helped me mix the drinks and showed me how to work the register. The others were a couple of rowdy matrons with sharp eyes and loud voices.

They tried to bait me at first, waggling their eyebrows and making comments lewd enough to make Rosemerta scowl at them. I didn't mind, I'd heard worse at the Institute. As the saying goes, girls will be girls.

"I'd like a pitcher of fire whiskey, please." A stunted, unremarkable little man said, handing me two Galleons.

"How many glasses?" I asked.

He was staring at me nervously, his right arm twitching curiously as if he was keeping himself from drawing his wand. Eyes narrowing, I wondered if maybe he'd already been served one drink too many.

"How many glasses?" I repeated. My tight-lipped smile disappeared when he didn't answer right away.

"Sir?" I asked, studying his face. It was strange, but he had no distinctive features. He was the kind of person that could loose himself easily in a crowed.

The intensity of his gaze made me want to look over my shoulder. Unsure of what the strange little man was capable of, I spared a glance toward Marcus. He was talking to a plump, red-faced man near the register. No help there.

Wary and just a tad suspicious, I looked back at the creepy little shit standing before me only to watch him suddenly turn and head for the door.

"Okay then." I said after a stunned moment of silence.

_Freak_.

Shaking my head I served a few more customers before handing Rosemerta my apron and the coin I'd gathered. She patted my shoulder and told me I'd done better than she'd thought I would. Not sure how to take that, I shrugged and wished her a good night.

Once I was outside, I shrugged into my school robes. It was colder than I'd expected. And bright. The stars spiraled across the sky like a bright fog, a truly beautiful sight. Strolling in the dark, I wandered towards the outskirts of town before drawing my wand. Just as I was preparing to apparate myself near the front gates, my left leg suddenly seized up.

I grunted in surprise, dropping to one knee. My knuckles turned white around my wand and my breathing speeded up. It hurt. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to distract myself as my calf muscles locked up and vibrated. I tried not to breath or move, thinking it would help for some reason.

It felt like someone had reached inside my leg and squeezed. I gasped and remembered the night before my birthday. I'd woken up with a massive Charlie Horse then, too. The sound of boots squishing in the muddy street I was kneeling in had me struggling to my feet.

"Who's there?" I growled, whishing I'd just apparated from outside the Three Broomsticks. No, instead I'd been a fool and let myself be distracted by the scenery. I couldn't apparate yet, not with my concentration impaired as it was by my leg.

The pain in my leg intensified and I cursed, holding my wand out before me like a shield. A particularly strong twinge jerked my knees forward and my leg crumpled beneath me. I grunted and whipped my head around.

I found myself looking up at creepy stranger who'd ran off earlier without his fire whiskey. The moment I spotted him he stopped moving.

"Stay back." I growled, pointing my wand directly at his chest.

I wasn't afraid of him, just cautious. I forced myself to breath calmly as the fire in my leg became torrid enough to scald the sun. I gritted my teeth, knuckles whitening around my wand.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" The wizard asked smugly, his voice girlishly high.

I bared my teeth at him. "Get away from me."

"He said it would. When you failed to show the other signs, he wondered. Now we know why. The markings summon the magic, but they also guard it. I must free you of them." He breathed, his previously ordinary features twisting into a fanatical grin.

"What are you talking about? Get away from me!" I spat. Pain, anger, and alarm gave my words power.

The man stumbled backwards a step. A flicker of surprise and eager anticipation crossed his face. Grinning insanely, he splayed his bare, empty hands out before him and began to mutter. The small hairs on my neck and arms stiffened. I went very still, cautiously pressing my free hand against my stomach.

Something inside of me was stirring. It shifted in its sleep. My lips parted as my breathing hitched, coming in fast pants. The pain in my leg receded suddenly, frightening me worse than when it had hurt.

A heartbeat later it whooshed back, only it was worse this time—much worse. I cried out, dropping to the ground like a stone.

Something was tearing apart my leg, gnawing on the flesh and ripping it apart from the inside! The whites of my eyes shone in the dark as panic blossomed in my chest.

_No, no, no!_

I reached for my leg only to fall backwards on the ground as the fire snarled and clawed its way up my leg to my thigh and beyond. I couldn't scream. The agony was all consuming and left me jerking noiselessly on the ground as my mind shrieked. I struggled to curl up into a ball, jamming my fist into my soundless mouth.

Then it was over.

The abrupt relief made me gasp. Air rushed into my lungs and cleared my oxygen-deprived brain. The sharp _crack_ of the stranger's departure had me struggling to stand. Not yet fully functional, I got to my knees, blood rushing quickly to my head. As soon as I gained my feet I lost them, dropping to all fours as I followed a sudden urge.

I found myself tossing up everything I'd ever eaten. I vomited so hard, I felt like that freaky bitch off Exorcist. My throat and nose burned when I was done. Shaking, I stumbled sideways and fell onto my back. I covered my face with my mud-smeared hands. Rain, tears, and blood from my mangled fist mingled with the clumps of mud in my hair. I felt as if all the muscles had been ripped out of my body.

A furious yowl startled me. The same feeling from before surged through me—the sensation of being awakened.

It was like having a bucket of cold water thrown on me, freezing me from the inside, out. The frozen knot in the pit of my stomach was accompanied by a craving I couldn't explain. It sent me flying into a crouch with unfamiliar strength and dexterity. On their own accord, my hands curled and my arms hung out to my sides as if I was going to hurl something.

"Merrrrooww!" Prince cried as he galloped forward and launched himself at me. The moment I gathered him into my arms I felt the feeling recede along with my tension.

I realized what the sensation was only after it was gone.

Hunger—that's what had motivated me. Not hunger for food…something abstract. Something I didn't want to think about, didn't want to acknowledge.

"Pain, I wanted to cause pain." I whispered into Prince's silky fur. "I wanted to watch them die and drink in their screams."

_A monster. There's a monster inside of me._ Hysterical laughter bubbled up in my throat, making me clamp a hand over my mouth.

"The markings did something to my magic." I murmured, recalling the man who'd attacked me.

Murderous rage and anticipation swept through me when I thought of the stranger. I my desire for the fool's death swirl around me, my imagination painting a picture of human carnage that made me bare my fangs.

"Merrow." I felt Prince's claws dig into my arms, snapping me back to reality and leaving me slightly dazed.

"Sorry." I exhaled, shaking myself. I laid a chaste kiss on his nose and placed him back on the ground. A fat, cold raindrop struck my nose as I straightened.

I was standing on the very outskirts of Hogsmead in the rain. The stars were gone, hidden by angry black clouds that emphasized the darkness surrounding me. Out of habit I felt my hand stray towards my wand pocket. It was empty. Frowning, I opened my hand and concentrated.

A moment later my wand flew into my palm, covered in mud and grass. Exhausted and only dimly concerned, I slowly headed up the path along side Prince.

_Looks like I'm going to be late for curfew._

The rustle of leaves and the echoes of raindrops on rooftops masked the soft pop of my side-along aparation back to school.

* * *

The incident at Hogsmead proved to be a reflection of the rest of my week: miserable.

After arriving back to the castle, I suffered only an hour of relentless questioning from Aurors and Professor Dumbledore before Madam Pomfrey saved me; out of gratitude I foolishly promised to zonk out every night in the hospital wing until they found out what was wrong with me.

After a shitty night's sleep, or lack there of, I lost seventy points for "intentionally" angering the potted spit-devil mushroom I was supposed to be examining. In reality, Professor Sprout only deducted thirty points: ten for showing up late, and twenty for the stupid plant. The other forty came from Madam Pomfrey when I showed up in the hospital wing with a nasty, oozing rash. I used it as an excuse to skip Healing—the test wasn't till next week anyway.

"Of all the foolish, irresponsible—"

"Just fix it, Pomfrey." I said, annoyed.

The damn thing was called a spit-_devil_, for cryin' out loud!

_It's not like they're naturally nice beings, besides, who the hell cares? It's not like I'm not gonna see her tonight. I shouldn't have promised to spend the night in one of these damnable beds._

Apparently Pomfrey cared. She harassed me until she was blue in the face and I was gripping the edge of the bed I was sitting on in an attempt to control my irritation.

Her words became muted as I sat there, feeling my irritation become anger. The moment it did a cold breeze fluttered my hair and ice flooded my veins. My eyes bugged out as I felt a frozen knot replace my stomach.

"Pomfrey. _Pomfrey_. Shut. Up." I growled, breaking out in a sweat just above my hairline.

A faint echo of the pain I'd experienced the night before cut through me like a ghost. I felt my upper lip begin to curl in a feral grin of anticipation; the sane part of my mind was screaming at me to do something, anything!

I shot to my feet and threw myself off the bed away from the nurse. "Get out of here! GO! Just—just go!" She wouldn't listen.

"Miss Sweetblood, I will not be ordered about my own hospital by a patient! Now sit."

Grimly, I shut my eyes and concentrated. _Stupefy, stupefy, stupefy!_

I didn't fall. An image of the hippogriff attack flashed through my mind: I hadn't been able to open the doors with wandless magic then either.

On it's own accord, my body suddenly tensed. My eyes flew open; Pomfrey was walking towards me. The need to see her twitching lifelessly on the ground for disobeying me was great. My mouth began to salivate as the primal monster within me began to take controll.

Desperate, I fought to draw my wand. Pomfrey began to run and I jammed it into my chest.

"STUPEFY!"

I shoved my fear and horror into the uncontrolled spell. A flash of red erupted from the end of my wand only to ricochet off my chest with blinding speed. Madam Pomfrey was knocked clean off her feet as the Stunning Spell collided with her chest.

The cold surge of energy receded slightly as I stumbled passed the unconscious form of Madam Pomfrey and out the door away from here. Once I slammed the door shut behind me, repressing my bloodlust became marginally easier. Then the doors started to open.

"Merlin's bastard sons!" I swore, pushing off against the wall. My face contorted as my blood began to sing, urging me to slit a few slender throats. Bile rose up in my throat at both the idea and the fact that I wanted to.

I really, really wanted to. I knew how, I knew the spells. It would be _so_ easy.

_No. NO. I need to leave. I need—I need to find the Headmaster._

With that goal firmly in mind, I tore off down corridor. Students shrieked and cursed at me as I shoved them into walls or other passerby as I careened around the corner. As I fought back the urge to butcher my classmates, I spotted him. Striding down the corridor, robes billowing out behind him, came Professor Snape.

Pale and rigid from the effort of keeping my violent tendencies in check, I sprinted to his side. He saw me coming and his perpetual scowl changed to one of mild irritation.

"What?" He snapped. His eyes narrowed suddenly and a long, bony hand snaked out to grip my shoulder, steering me into the nearest doorway.

"Let go of me. Now." I whispered, closing my eyes tight as I began to lose what little power I had over my gruesome desires.

His grip on my shoulder tightened, making me want to expel his intestines with one of the curses from the Dart Arts book I'd inherited.

"Please." I croaked, my mouth dry as that image triggered a thrill of glee.

My hands twitched and I clenched them tight when he didn't let go right away. Instead, he propelled me into one of the side classrooms. My breathing hitched.

"Professor, I am going to break your arm in eight different places," I hissed, "if you do not give me some space." His hand abruptly left my shoulder.

I sucked in a breath, my yearning for his pain actually intensified by the sudden absence of his touch. The confused and noisy ruckus from the students in the hallway was cut off as he bolted the door shut with a sharp gesture.

My jaw ached as I held back a growl of frustration; I longed to rip the door off its hinges and watch all the little kiddies scream as—

"Miss Sweetblood!"

Startled from the sick fantasy I'd been caught in, I felt my hands begin to shake. "Make it stop." I begged, grabbing a hold of a nearby desk. I leaned over it, pressing my forehead against the warm grain of the wood.

"No."

"Then get Dumbledore."

"No."

"No as in can't, or won't?" I snarled, an icy rage consuming me.

Silent footsteps answered me. I growled and gripped the desk tighter, feeling it flex beneath my fingers like the railing as Number 12 had.

Then I felt him run one, just one, long finger down the length of my spine. I froze. My entire body went rigid as I suddenly became aware of his close proximity. I could feel the warmth emanating from his body.

I stopped breathing, stopped thinking and just concentrated on that warmth. _It's the heat of his blood. I can sense his blood. _

"Nothing personal, I assure you." His voice held a distasteful grimace.

_I can hear it. Even from here, I can hear it. _My eyes grew distant as I listened to the sound of his heart. It was beating almost as rapidly as my own.

"Look at me!" He ordered suddenly, whirling me around to face him. My eyes snapped to his, confused and muddled. "_Legilimens_."

The moment the spell slammed into my mental barriers, I knew I had lost: he'd shattered the last of my concentration.

Time seemed to stop, everything faded. Magic rush through my veins like liquid ice, caressing my skin as it sang to me of it's yearning, its need. It was exhilarating. I knew I should resist, but I couldn't. A newer, more forceful part of me wouldn't allow it.

Memories, beliefs, and opinions—all of them disappeared. I became numb to everything but the magic, a dark magic that whispered to me its cravings for greed, envy, hate, deceit, anger, spite, and above all, its desire for pain and fear.

Sighing, I stretched languorously, reveling in my lack of concern; I could do whatever I wanted when I wanted. It was a heady feeling.

After a few moments I dimly became aware of some emotions that didn't belong to me.

Swirling around in the back of my mind were the emotions of the people nearest me: suspicion, excitement, boredom, anxiety, anger, lust, greed, infatuation, fear, shock, doubt, satisfaction, hunger…

My heart beat excitedly as I picked up on the fear and I opened my eyes. As I searched for the source, I noticed that everything in the room seemed sharper, clearer somehow. I moved like a dream: one moment I was standing before Professor Snape and then, before I even knew I wanted to move, I was out in the hall. There, a pudgy boy I recognized as one of Potter's friends was staring at a smug looking Draco Malfoy.

My nostril's flared and I clicked my teeth together, running my tongue over the points of my teeth. The boys were arguing. I could feel the blond brat's excitement and the Gryffindor's mounting distress.

"Sweetblood." I heard Malfoy sneer. His voice sounded distant, garbled almost. I tried to remember more about him, but only his name came to mind. Shaking my head, I concentrated more on the Longbottom boy.

_Yes, that's his name. Longbottom. Neville Longbottom…_

As I became more aware of Longbottom's dread, I dismissed everything from my mind but the cravings and sauntered towards him. I felt his fear flare when he spotted me.

He was afraid of me!

The knowledge amplified my hunger and I took a deep breath, drinking his fear in as I navigated through the throng of students on their way to lunch. I heard Professor Snape calling me, but I ignored him. The magic needed more. The fear wasn't enough.

I went to run my hand through my hair in frustration but stopped short. My hand was shrouded in a veil of black fire. Mildly surprised, I made a fist of my hand. The black fire flared, burning coldly. I smiled.

My eyes darted back to the boy's in sadistic pleasure. His terror rolled over me, drowning out the lesser emotions in the hallway. A cool breeze lifted my hair and made my hemmed robes flap open to reveal my muggle attire. I started towards him again only to feel something hit my shoulder before bouncing off.

Annoyed, I looked over my shoulder. Professor Snape was staring disbelievingly at me, wand outstretched. As if he'd turned a switch, I suddenly became aware of the noise level in the hallway.

People were scattering, yelling as they fled the corridor. The breeze around me became a gale as the collective fear of those around me went directly to my head. Lips parted and eyes half closed, I stood there and soaked up their chaotic emotions. I watched Professor Snape raise his wand again and cocked my head to one side, watching him through heavily lidded eyes.

"Control yourself, Miss Sweetblood!" He ordered, glaring at me.

I laughed. "Trying to save face, are we Professor? If it weren't for you, I'd never have allowed the magic to take hold. But now…" I breathed deeply, wrapping my arms around myself in jubilation. "Now I welcome it, as should you."

I peered at him sideways, smirking as an idea formed. Just then, I felt the Longbottom boy flee the corridor. "You did that on purpose." I said, my playful mood vanishing like a flash of lightning.

He'd distracted me so the boy could get away. Enraged, I stalked towards the professor.

He watched me approach, nothing giving away the faint whiff of uncertainty I sensed. The rest of the hall began to empty, the students fading along with their delicious emotions. I growled and continued to stalk towards the Professor.

My sensitivity to emotions was astounding. I could even detect hidden, repressed feelings people might not even be aware of. Like envy, grief, and hatred—I laughed suddenly as I stumbled across another emotion, this one long buried.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" I said, considering the Professor.

_I wonder if I can manipulate them as well? Interesting theory._

I concentrated on the dormant feeling I'd picked up in the Potion's Master, reaching out with my new ability and giving it a nudge. Professor Snape's inaudible gasp announced my success.

Excitement rushed through me and I yanked the feeling to the surface, empowering it. Professor Snape shuddered, jerking backwards and away from me. I smiled viciously as he tried to regain control of himself. Desire was a very dominant emotion I observed with great satisfaction as his mind battled ferociously with his body.

"Very impressive. Your control is remarkable." I said, walking in a slow circle around him. He followed me step for step, his face contorting into a furious snarl that would have made even Prince hesitate. I just shook my head patronizingly.

"Control yourself, Professor." I ordered, mocking him.

Outwardly, nothing betraying his attack. It was a spike in his emotions that alerted me. The curse was one I wasn't familiar with but it hit the wall with a _crack_ and melted the stone.

"Hmm, that wasn't very diplomatic." I observed, having sidestepped it. My muscles were singing with awareness and newfound strength as the magic gathered around me.

I snapped my fingers together and a black void of cold fire appeared. It was about the size of a tennis ball. I looked from the burning ball to him, and back to the ball. My intent was clear.

"Astrid!"

The voice was powerful—and angry. Turning, I saw a tall old man with flashing blue eyes and a long white beard approaching. Several people in black Auror robes and an elderly witch who had her hair in a severe bun, followed in his wake. I frowned.

"I should know you." I looked back at Professor Snape, confused. "I should know them. Why don't I remember them?" My voice was gaining volume, the confusion building along with my frustration.

"What did you do to me, you bastard!" Throwing my arms over my head, I drew on the magic. I called it forth, feeling it emerge from some cold, dark place inside of me. It rolled down my arms into my hands like cold flames.

_I don't understand. Something is wrong with me! Where am I? What am I doing here?_

"Get away from me! Who are you people?" I cried out, holding my hands out before me. What was happening? I could only recall Professor Snape's name.

"Good evening, Astrid. I'm Ablus Dumbledore, Headmaster here at Hogwarts." The powerful old man said politely. "I'm here to help you regain control of yourself, but I'll need your help to do it."

That made sense. I had called the greasy haired man Professor after all. He probably taught Potions. So…I was in a school. I peered into the faces of the others. They were afraid and determined. My eyes darted back to the old man.

With a start, I realized I couldn't sense his emotions. They were gone—as if he was hiding them from me. I didn't trust him. I met his gaze coolly, no longer concerned with my inability to remember. If I didn't remember, then there was undoubtedly a damn good reason.

I straightened, regaining my composure. The important thing was to find someone to satisfy my needs. The magic egged me on, agreeing with me. The craving returned, my fingers twitching with excitement as I imagined tightening them around one of the Auror's throats. I ran my tongue over my lips, unaware of how disconcerting it was.

The old wizard seemed to sigh. As if it were a signal, the Aurors started forward. I bared my teeth in a feral grin and hurled the burning ball I was holding at them. Wands a blur, the Aurors tried to defend themselves. My magic flew through their shields as if they didn't exist. A delicious scream erupted from the Auror I struck.

I hungrily absorbed it, pupils dilating as I felt his agony. I felt several spells hit me as I drank in the Auror's convulsing screams. One of the Auror's began Healing him however, easing his pain. I scowled.

All of a sudden, several spells slammed into me before bouncing off. Glaring, I looked over at the other Aurors. Horrified and angry, they all turned to Dumbledore. The old man was shaking with fury. Magic crackled around him, making the others step away from him.

I cocked my head to one side, considering him. He was powerful yes, but so was I. Grinning, I drew on my magic, pulling it around me like a cloak. My hair whipped across my face, my robes flailed, and paintings on the walls shook. My magic was like a black hurricane of fire and ice. My storm sucked the emotions out of the corridor and from the people in it, consuming the feelings with ravenous glee.

I stood in the eye of the storm, grounding the power. With my arms raised above my head, I twirled, laughing. And then I felt it. In the back of my mind, someone howled with rage.

_NO! NO! NO! NO!_

My grin faltered and I dropped my arms. What was happening? Pounding, like fists on a door, accompanied the shrieking voice.

_STOP IT! YOU'RE HURTING HIM! STOPIT!_

The voice terrified me. I covered my ears and quit drawing on my power, afraid to ignore it. My eyes darted around the demolished hallway. Shredding paintings, broken frames, shattered statues, and pieces of armor littered the area around me. The Aurors and the witch were lying unconscious on the ground. Only the wizard was standing, but just barely. Snape was slumped against another wall, dazed.

Following an impulse I didn't understand but didn't dare ignore, I stumbled to one of the Auror's sides. It was the Auror I'd struck earlier. He was pale and barely breathing. I could feel him slipping away, his emotions fading.

The voice's piercing cry made my heart leap into my throat and I whimpered, falling to my knees at the dying man's side.

_NO! NO! NO! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL _KILL_ YOU!_

I began to shake, falling across the young man. Terrified, I began to cry. What was I supposed to do? The man was taller than me with fine auburn hair and long sideburns. I could feel his muscles beneath my hands as I cowered against his chest.

_HEAL HIM! HEAL HIMMMM!_

"Okay, I'll do it." I sobbed, "I'll Heal him." The magic fought me, wanting to take his life, needing me to enjoy his demise. I hesitated for a moment, considering, but the voice returned in full force and I didn't hesitate to obey it.

"_Sano!_" I cried, grabbing a hold of the magic and forcing it to do what I wanted. I would not be controlled by it any longer. I was the master!

The man shuddered, his eyes flying open as he gasped for air. His bright hazel eyes found mine and I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Mike Sarlow." As if his name was a key, I felt a door inside of me unlock.

_SARLOW!_

The voice! The voice was mine! I swayed, crumpling to the floor as my memories, beliefs—everything—came rushing back. It was like being stuck over the head with a cauldron. I closed my eyes, dazed and unable to sort out my thoughts.

Nothing felt real, I was dreaming.

"Astrid. Astrid? Astrid!" I felt hands grip my shoulders but I was too far-gone.

_That's his voice._ I thought, feeling myself slip away. _That's his voice…his voice…his voice…_

* * *

**(A/N)**

**G-zeus! Finally, another installment!**

**Okay, well here's another chapter. I know! I'm a slacker. But hey, in my defense, I did post a warning. And, hell, school's out in three days! Shit yeah! **

**Alright, well here's something to chew on while you wait: In the next chapter Astrid will fight Ron and figure out some things about herself. Also, she'll probably be that much more alienated from her classmates, or...Hmm...I could do the Kate Bell thing and have Dumbledore brush it off to the rest of the school as a Death Eater attack. Suggestions? **

**If you guys have any questions you need answered, review me and I'll get back to you ASAP. To summer vacation!**

**Elated, the author**


	16. American Halfbreed

"**There are only two forces that unite men—fear and interest." –Napoleon Bonaparte

* * *

**

**Chapter 16**

_No as in can't, or wont…I can hear it. Even from here I can hear it…I should know them. Why don't I remember…I'll kill you! I'll _kill_ you…_

I shifted in my sleep, a horrible feeling of dread and fear gnawing at my insides. An image of a dying Sarlow flashed in my mind's eye and I sat up in bed with a gasp.

My breathing was unsteady and my heart racing, as I clenched the bed sheets. I stared at the unfamiliar stark white walls of the hospital room as I shook off the nightmare. I wasn't at Hogwarts.

Tortured screams echoed through my memory and I felt a small part of me die. I had wanted to watch them all die. I'd needed it, craved it.

Leaning forward, I buried my face in my trembling hands. I forced myself to take calming breaths. The beating of my heart quieted, and I drew my hands down until they rested beneath my chin. I felt hot and sweaty, my clothes sticking to my skin. It was dark in the hospital wing. The only source of light was the moon that shone through the window on the wall behind me.

"Merrow."

Prince's rumbling purr made me start. "Damn it Prince, don't _do_ that." I said, reaching out to pick him up from a vacated chair that was resting beside my bed. I grunted as picked him up.

"What are you eating?" He was about the size of a small dog now. I shook my head, thinking of how small he'd been when I'd first found him in that shop.

_Well, smallish. _

"You know, they usually don't let animals into hospitals. Thanks for beating the odds and keeping me company though. " Rubbing his head under my chin, Prince folded his wings tightly against his body. I sighed, my arms carefully encircling him. I ran gentle fingers over his downy feathers, taking comfort in his affection. Eyes half closed, he leaned into me.

My face relaxed into a soft smile. I sat like that, curled up with Prince, for some time. After a while, my mind regained some of its former stubborn confidence and began to calmly assess the last few days.

To state the obvious, the Death Eater had definitely screwed around with my magic. I concentrated on that night, recalling what he'd said: _the markings summon the magic, but they also guard it. I must free you of them…_

Frowning, I lifted my cheek from Prince's silky fur and stared at my left leg.

"Markings." I murmured. Carefully setting Prince aside, I untangled my legs from the hospital sheets.

"What?" My tattoo—the twisted rope of strange runes coiled around my calf—was gone. Unable to believe what I was seeing, I ran my hands over my leg, searching for the familiar cold spot that identified the tattoo's trail up my calf.

It was gone. Staring at my bare leg, I frowned. How was that possible? It had been there when I took my after-jog shower. Maybe…maybe what had happened in the hallway was a delayed reaction. Whatever the Death Eater had done to my leg hadn't taken affect until Pomfrey had aggravated me.

My eyes stared off into space as I remembered the pull of the magic. But where had the magic been summoned _from_? How had a Death Eater known so much about me?

_Sweetbloods. So then it is true. They must have been servants of the Dark Lord. I wonder how Mother…_

Twisting the ring around my fingers, I sighed. I hadn't taken it off since I'd signed my mother's Will; since I'd become a Sweetblood. My thoughts turned to the books and to what other dark artifacts might be awaiting me when I finally visited my ancestral home.

The Death Eater aside, Allman had also mentioned the Dark Lord's interest in me. Perhaps he would know. But then again, the boy wasn't really that bright—tall, dark, and intensely sexy though he was.

I frowned as I thought of yet another person who might be able to answer my questions. "Professor Snape."

My eyes narrowed as I recalled his blunt refusal to alert Dumbledore and the successful attempts to break my concentration by both magical and physical means. My spine tingled in memory of a confident, lingering caress. Closing my eyes, I relaxed my jaw and tested my Occulemency barrier. That, along with my tattoo, was also gone.

"Crap." My shoulders slumped in defeat. What the hell had happened to me? Nudging Prince out of the way, I swung my legs out of bed. I winced. They were still a tad sore from all the exercise I was getting in the mornings and the floor was cold.

_What time is it?_

Scratching my head, I looked around for my clothes. I needed to get out of here. Not back to Hogwarts, maybe, but out of here nonetheless. I wasn't in any kind of a hurry, but I hated hospitals. "Funny since I seem to be spending most of my time in them." I muttered. "Aha."

Picking up the pile of folded laundry that had been placed on top of my boots at the end of the bed, I stiffened. They were the clothes I'd been wearing when…

I changed in silence, the memories draining me of energy. Was my Head of House a traitor? Should I be more cautious in respect to the Dark Lord's obvious interest in me? Did I have reason to fear myself? The thought of losing control again made my hands tremble as I tied my buckled by boots.

_Yes. To _all_ questions._

Standing up, I waved an inpatient hand at the bed. As the magic unfolded into the bed-making spell, I became very still. My magic felt—different—and my left leg had gone cold. I stopped breathing and my heart sped up.

"Merrow. Merrrrroooowwww." I felt Prince rub up against me, pulling me out of my momentary petrifaction.

Standing in the silvery light of an imaginary moon, I rubbed my fingers against my palms. "I wonder…" Licking my lips, I tentatively snapped my fingers. A black spark sprang up from each of my thumbs.

"Aw, shit." Swallowing hard, I spun around on my heel and crossed the room. "Prince, we're leaving." I grasped the door handle and yanked. It didn't budge. I tried pushing it, but that didn't work either.

"Sonofva…" Growling, I reached out a hand and _felt_ the door. The slippery sheen coating the door made my hands tingle and I snorted in disgust. The doctors had smartened up and placed a Bulwark Charm on the door. A type of fortification spell, it kept stubborn patients abed.

Having seen it before, I knew the counter curse. Instead of using my hands, my altered magic gave me the willies, I drew my—"What? Where's my wand? Those bastards. They took my wand." Stunned, I stood in front of the door for a moment.

During all my years at school and at whatever wizarding hospital I happened to be close to, none of them had ever taken my wand from me.

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Like I need a wand to kill somebody." The grim fog of a memory had me reliving that scene in the hall way and I turned my face away from the door, my eyes closed.

I remember hunting down Longbottom and enjoying his fear. I had felt everyone's emotions. Heard their pulses. Smelt their fear…

The memory was so intense, so vivid. I clenched my fists and breathed deeply through my nose, straining. Yes, there they were—the foreign feelings. The people on the other side of the door weren't happy with me.

When that thought registered, I stiffened. Opening my eyes, I turned my head back to stare directly at the door. "Damn."

I stared at the door a moment longer, a muscle in my cheek twitching. There were no less than five Aurors and a pompous ass that I'm sure worked for the English Ministry, if the barrage of emotions I was sensing were accurate.

Prince began to growl as he felt my agitation. Backing away from the door, I paced. My heart was beating excitedly in my chest. What did this mean?

I could still sense the hostile and resentful emotions of my invisible guards as they milled around outside of my door. My room was silent and I couldn't hear anything going on outside in the hall, no doubt the work of a silencing ward.

Were they waiting out there to arrest me? Undoubtedly. If I'd been a bystander in that hallway, that's what I would do. I'd report my ass to the Aurors and lock me up in Azkaban.

_All right Astrid, time to put on your big girl panties and deal with it._ I told myself. There was nothing I could do about the guards and therefore nothing I could do about the lock on my door.

Hell, I was lucky I hadn't been immediately dragged off school grounds and sent to Azkaban. But no, instead they'd sent me to a hospital. I had a strong feeling that Dumbledore was responsible for this. Maybe he was trying to cover the hallway incident up and blame it on the Death Eater attack I'd suffered from. Tell the Ministry that I'd been cursed and that the magic originated from the Dark Lord.

_But the monster is still inside._ The traitorous thought made my stomach churn. Even more curious was the fact that I seemed to have retained the abilities I'd gained when the magic overwhelmed me.

I snapped my fingers again, lightly. The burning black sparks that resulted made me tense. They faded quickly enough, their cold presence making my skin prickle. I could also feel the foreign knot of tangled emotions somewhere in my mind. I probed it warily, unwilling to delve into that particular sea of chaotic upheaval.

Shying away from that mental awareness—I did in fact prefer solitude after all and disliked this intrusion of knowing that I wasn't actually alone—I turned away from the door.

Slowly crossing my room, I sat down on my bed. I couldn't stay here. _But I can't blast the door open and face the Aurors, or apparate out of here._

That was the problem with hospitals, too many precautionary spells and not enough exits. Unless it was an emergency, the only place you could apparate to and from within a hospital was the main entrance.

"Portkey!" I barked suddenly, smiling triumphantly. How could I have been so stupid? "Prince, come." Standing up, I gathered Prince into my arms and made sure he would be secure. "Fold your wings in tightly, it might be rough. Home sw—"

The doorknob rattled and then swung open. My startled eyes met Dumbledore's midspeech.

"Good morning Miss Sweetblood."

"Headmaster." I said after a moment's pause.

_I don't want to leave and find out he can stop me. Or track me down by looking up this portkey. Ministry probably has it registered. Damn. No, I'll keep it for later…just in case._

Having made up my mind, I set Prince down on the floor and resituated myself on the bed. Dumbledore sat himself in the empty chair I'd first found Prince on when I woke up.

"Feeling better, I hope?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Ah. Good then." He didn't press me for more, content to wait.

"Where am I?"

"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It has been quite some time since you collapsed in the hallway."

"Like how much time? What's today's date?"

"It's Saturday. But do not fear, I was able to persuade one of the Aurors to cover your first year class yesterday and sent a note to Madam Rosemerta." Dumbledore informed me steadily, smiling slightly.

"Oh. Thanks." I said. "So…what am I doing here? I couldn't help but notice that my wand has been confiscated. Any thoughts?"

Amusement flickered momentarily in Dumbledore's eyes before he sighed. "Very few. Astrid, I need you to recount yesterday's events. As you might have guessed, the Ministry has already taken down several statements from witnesses, several of which are willing to testify in support of your imprisonment in Azkaban."

I rocked backwards slowly on my bed, the impact of a possible life sentence almost physical. I felt my face go blank as my guts clenched up and promptly disappeared. I stayed that way for a few moments, slightly stunned and mute. He didn't press me for any information, content to wait.

I inhaled deeply and then let it out, reaching up to scratch my neck. "Alright then." I said nodding. I took a few more minutes to gather my thoughts, noticing that the moon's light had intensified when Dumbledore entered the room. It was like he'd turned on the lights, but in a more subtle way.

_Focus, Astrid_. I said, forcing myself to stare into Dumbledore's eyes.

"For starter's, I didn't tell you what that Death Eater said to me the other night when I was attacked." My eyes drifted up to look out the enchanted window. "He kept saying how his master knew it would hurt. That Voldermort had wondered why I'd failed to show the other sings. He said something about how the markings summon the magic, but they also guard it. He mentioned freeing me from them. I checked this morning. The tattoo's gone."

"May I?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes sparkling with interest.

"Yeah." I drew my leg closer to me and unbuckled my boot. "There's no outward sign of it." I said, pulling up my pant leg.

He leaned forward, staring at my left leg. I was glad I'd shaved and that the scars left behind from numerous bites and scratches from smaller animals were faint. I hated it when people felt compelled to comment. I frowned, remembering the stares the other girls had given me while I showered after Emry's class. Another reason I never wore shorts and favored long-sleeved shirts. My body looked like a battlefield.

_Which is useful in its own way. _

Eventually, Dumbledore's forehead relaxed and I saw him nod. "It has not disappeared entirely."

"In a manner of speaking." I said, returning to the matter at hand. "The tat is gone, but its…essence, isn't." I said. "I don't know what it did to my magic, or what kind of magic the tattoo was supposed to summon, but I have a feeling that the Dark Lord does. And that—Headmaster—makes me very uncomfortable." I turned to look at him and saw that his eyes were out of focus, his mind obviously somewhere else.

"Of course." He said politely, leaning back in his chair.

Prince lifted a paw and sunk his claws into my leg. He wanted attention. "Ow! Spoiled brat." I hissed, plucking him off my leg and off the floor. I settled him on my lap, caressing his feathers after flicking him on the ear.

"Sarlow asked me to inform you that he is quiet well." Dumbledore said after a moment, smiling kindly.

I carefully assumed a detached expression. "I'm glad to hear it." I said slowly. I stroked Prince's downy feathers for a few seconds in silence.

_So. Back to the story._

Brushing back my hair, I exhaled deeply. "Yesterday was Pomfrey's fault. She was being her usual self and got me all riled up. She started it." I kept my eyes on Prince's glorious wings. "The same feelings I'd had when I was jumped overwhelmed me. I felt cold, I became angry, my leg hurt—"

"Are you sure they were identical to those you experienced that night?" He asked quietly. He was speaking of when the Death Eater attacked me.

I paused, considering his question. "No." I shook my head. "The anger and the cold were more intense but the pain in my leg was _much_ fainter. It was more like a sympathy twinge."

"Ah."

"Yeah. Well, anyway, I realized what was happening and told Pomfrey to beat it. Like any other nurse, she told me to shut up and sit down." I smiled wryly. "Much good it did her. I tried to stun myself but the spell ricocheted off my chest and hit her instead."

"Madam Pomfrey did mention that you cast a very potent Stunning Spell."

I snorted. "I did try to knock myself out without using my wand first. But," I frowned, "it didn't work. Headmaster, my wandless magic didn't work the last time I tried to use it in a stressful situation either."

"The hippogriff incident?" He nodded to himself. "I am begging to suspect that it won't be an issue for you now."

"Why—oh." Right. The strange markings my tattoo had consisted of must have been screwing around with my magic. That's why I'd had to replace my wand the night after my leg cramped up at Number 12.

_So for the past five years…__But at least the markings won't be interfering with my magic anymore. At least, not anymore that it already has._

"I was twelve when I let myself get talked into getting that thing." I said, shaking my head. "If I'd only known. Huh. Well it was a stupid mistake—like the fangs—but then again that Death Eater did say Voldemort had been wondering why I wasn't showing _the other signs_ so perhaps it wasn't such a screw up."

Dumbledore didn't say anything. He just sat there and twirled his thumbs, waiting for me.

I ran a hand over my mouth, my brain connecting the dots. "Okay, so then maybe the questions I should be asking," I said slowly, "are one: how long has the Dark Lord been monitoring me for, and two: what do the signs mean? What was he looking for?" In the scheme of things, nothing else really mattered.

"For what he is always seeking, Miss Sweetblood, an advantage." Dumbledore said tiredly, sighing.

I shrugged. "I suppose. I just want to know what all the signs I'm supposed to be showing are and what they're supposed to mean." I said absently, picking at my lip. "Signs mean something, something about me. So something about me is an advantage to the Dark Lord and therefore not to you." I paused, closing my eyes as I thought.

Thus, I am a tool, but what kind of tool? I'm cold, I'm grossly sadistic, I hear pulse rates, and smell fear; I forget my identity and shoot icy black fire out of my hands. I am easily enraged and distracted. "But what am I?" 

"A weapon." Dumbledore said gravely.

Yeah I know. But am I an AK 47 or a standard Glock? And more importantly, how in the hell did I become an advantage—a weapon? Was the magic that was summoned already in me, already corrupted and waiting to be released? Or did the tattoo curse me and do the corrupting? 

Wait, if I was to believe that the tattoo did this then I'd also have to believe that the tweaker hag who slapped on that tat did it on purpose so that she could create "an advantage" for a serial killer in a another country. Yeah, right.

"No." I thought aloud. "Not possible." I was twelve when I got my tattoo and I had done it on an impulse after having a row with my dad. That hag and the friends who were with me, had not been in league with—a then dead—Voldemort. Potter hadn't seen the Dark Lord return to power until later and his followers weren't following him until that day.

Then I was already corrupted to begin with.

"Holy shit." I said, looking up at Dumbledore. "Am I—Then I'm not—I'm not human. That's why the spell rebounded onto Pomfrey. That's why…"

Why everyone seemed to instinctively hate me and animals try to kill me. Why I never fit in. With my thoughts unguarded, Dumbledore seemed to be able to sense what I was realizing.

"I am sorry, Astrid. Now you know why it is absolutely imperative that you recount yesterday's events to me. I assume you have never given the Healers permission to examine your blood before this?"

"Yes, many times." I whispered, feeling curiously hollow and light headed.

"Ah, well if they had examined it, they were undoubtedly looking for something other than the possibility that you might be only partially human. When you were admitted to St. Mungo's that was one of the first things the Ministry had the Healer's look for. They wanted to know what made you…different from normal wizards and witches." Dumbldore tapped his fingers together. "Fortunately or unfortunately, the Healers are unable to discern what that difference is, however, only that a difference does indeed exist."

My emotions were all tangled up and making it hard to breath. I wanted to cry. I could feel my eyes burning and the level of snot in my nose increased. Hysterical laughter bubbled up in my throat, but I swallowed it down, shuddering in silent sobs of horror and rage. I was a monster.

_It was me, not Voldemort's influence. _I _almost killed Sarlow, not Voldemort._

How had this happened? Why hadn't Dad told me? Was everything in my life a lie? Who was I? _What_ was I? I wanted to scream these things at someone.

_But I won't, I _can't_. Not where he and the others can hear._

Turning away from Dumbledore, I lay down on the bed and settled for curling up into a ball and not making any noise at all. My emotions were intense and raw. I cried silently, tears flooding my face and pillow.

I didn't speak for what seemed like hours. When I was able to think coherently, pinkish light was coming from the enchanted window. I felt drained and muddled. My voice, though I had not used it, was scratchy and weak. Slowly sitting up, I turned a dead face towards the Head Master.

"Ask." I said in a flat voice. He'd let me have my time, quietly allowing me to grieve and shoulder my suffering.

"Please continue, Astrid." Dumbledore asked gently. "I need you to tell me what happened in the hallway." I nodded but could not meet his eyes. Instead, I turned my attention to the window.

"In the beginning, the magic wanted me to kill everyone. To enjoy their pain. I could feel everyone's emotions. Hear their pulses. Smell their fear…" I trailed off, remembering.

"I lost control. I forgot everything but what the magic wanted. It erased who I was." My voice cracked and I closed my eyes. "I couldn't even remember _where_ I was, only that I wanted to kill everyone there, everyone around me. It was like I was…" I fought for the words to explain it, to make him and the people listening understand.

"A vampire." Dumbledore said softly, looking at me over his half-moon glasses.

My heart hammered and I shifted on the bed, staring up at him. _Maybe…no_. I wasn't a vampire. The sun had been up and their lifeblood had not attracted me so much as their painful deaths. Vampires fed on a person's life-force, not their pain.

"Yes. But worse, much worse." I said, shaking my head. The Headmaster sighed deeply.

"And therein lies our problem."

I ran a hand through my hair. "It was like I said at first, being unaware of my other self. The magic or essence of my other self had felt…impulsive. Not irrational so much as fickle." I took a moment to remember.

"And I could call the magic. It wanted to—to swallow, or absorb the fear. Kind of like…a dementor does, only they suck happy feelings out of you, don't they?" I had never seen or been near one so I wasn't sure.

"It did feel similar to that, yes."

"But…?" I said, sensing that there was something more.

"In the corridor, when your magic touched people, it drudged up memories of pain and fear but did not absorb them. It only used them to manufacture pain and terror, which was what it was truly after."

"Oh." That sounded right. After I had let Sarlow's pain wash over me, I'd been able to call on the magic. "So when I struck Sarlow…"

"The magic seized him and made him relive his worst memories—like a dementor. But it also attacked his imagination and discovered what he feared most, using that against him similar to what a bogart would do, if you will."

I rolled that around for a moment. My magic drew strength from imagined, remembered, and physical pain. A dementor absorbs happy memories and leaves behind only nightmares. I created nightmares and left behind pain.

_I'm such a…_monster I felt sick and nauseous.

"What I'm curious to know, Miss Sweetblood," Dumbledore said as I processed the information he'd just given me, "is how you managed to Heal Mr. Sarlow."

"Huh? Oh that."

"Yes, that."

"Well, I suppose that's when I broke through. To my other self I mean." I frowned. My mouth worked, trying to form the words my brain was scrambling for. I needed to explain this to myself more than I did to my hidden audience.

"It was like I'd been cut in half." I laughed bitterly. "Being a half-breed I suppose one could say that the good half of me—the _human_ half—had been stripped away and shoved into a corner somewhere in my mind, leaving what was left of me to do as it pleased." My voice was hard and bitter.

"What was left of course is the problem isn't it? Because we don't know what that other half is." My lips thinned. I didn't want to be here anymore, to sit here like some exotic animal the Healers can examine. Clenching my hands, I continued. "All I know is that the half that remained was ruthless—monstrous. And it wanted to obey the magic. It wanted to follow its desires. It wanted to watch the people in that hallway to die and die horribly." My voice wavered slightly and I cleared my throat. "When my freewill resurfaced I was able to reclaim control over myself once again." I shivered at the surreal memory of that moment, the flesh on my arms prickling.

"But how did you heal Mr. Sarlow?"

"Well…my monster-half just grabbed a hold of the magic and made it do what my human- half wanted it to. With both halves working together, I guess I was able to shove my magic into Sarlow with my intent."

_I sound like an absolute lunatic. What am I, Dr. Jackle and Mr. Hyde or whatever? I sound like an unstable Half-breed trying to resist the impulse to slaughter everyone because of my human heritage._

"The intent to Heal. If I hadn't, he almost…he would have died if I hadn't."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, he would have indeed." Without looking at me, he sighed. The lines on his aging face deepened. "Miss Sweetblood, would you agree that a person suffering an acute personality disorder would endanger those in her surroundings?"

A sharp intake of breath made me swallow my spit. I hacked uncontrollably for a moment, holding up a hand to stave off any help.

"Sorry," I gasped, my eyes watering. "—_hack_—went down the wrong tube."

When I regained my ability to speak, I addressed his question.

"Yes," I said cautiously, "if that person was unaware of her condition and unwilling to seek counsel of some sort. But, I don't naturally have two distinct personalities that reside within me. _That_ was the Dark Lord's fault. On a daily basis, I am normally—well, normal. Whatever that means for a half-breed." I paused for a moment, the words had sounded odd coming from my mouth. Half-breed…I shook myself.

"What I'm trying to say is that I have never before experienced this kind of instability. The Death Eater's interference with my magic is what managed to divide my personality into unstable halves. Perhaps the tattoo was a plug. I mean I got it when I was twelve, right before I hit puberty. By removing the plug, Voldemort might have instigated a rapid growth spurt that was so sudden it caused me to experience some dangerous side-effects that wouldn't have occurred otherwise." My words came out fast in a rapid-fire as my brain worked furiously. My palms began to sweat as I thought of who was listening in on our conversation.

It was as if I were presenting my case before an invisible jury.

"I can't be blamed for what the Dark Lord did to me, for being another of his victims. As far as I'm concerned, what I did in that hallway was the result of a Death Eater attack. And I shouldn't be blamed for not registering myself as a half-breed because I didn't even know I was one." I finished, hoping I was telling the truth, willing myself to be convincing.

Dumbledore considered me over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. Approval and a flicker of surprise entered his eyes. They seemed to say, "well-done".

"I agree. You were suffering from a magic-induced malady that forced you to divide yourself into two distinct halves. Of course, this is why you were brought to St. Mungos and not Azkaban. Before the hallway incident, you were simply an ordinary Hogwart's student with perhaps a rather unusual heritage." The Headmaster said airily, getting to his feet. "Could have happened to any of my students. You should not be punished for circumstances beyond your control."

_Only those I should be able to._ I thought grimly, closing my eyes as my nightmares from last night rose up to plague me.

There wasn't a doubt in my mind that the Ministry would have locked me up in Azkaban if the Head Master hadn't been here. At least, I hoped "_would have_ locked me up" was an apt description of what was about to transpire.

"I must impress upon you the importance of remaining discrete from here on out, Miss Sweetblood, while I confer with some others on this matter. And I'm afraid that I must ask you to rest here a while longer. When I return, I hope we will walk out this door rather than by the portkey on your finger. Good morning, Miss Sweetblood."

My jaw dropped slightly before I could snap it shut.

"Headmaster." I nodded back to Dumbledore. Once he left, I felt the urge to blast open the door and sock everyone standing behind it square on the nose. Left alone with only my thoughts to occupy me, I scowled.

I did not want to do anymore thinking. I had exerted my brain enough for one day, thank you very much. Besides, my eyes and head were still sore from my emotional breakdown earlier. Blowing out my cheeks, I flopped over on the bed. A yawn escaped me and I tried to clamp down on it.

No, no sleeping. At least, not without taking a Dreamless Sleep Potion.

Forcing myself into a sitting position, I opened my eyes wide. Physically and mentally fatigued though I was, I couldn't face what was waiting for me in my dreams. I just couldn't. My eyes drooped and I pinched my arm. Nope. Absolutely no—yawn—sleepinnggg…

* * *

"Miss Sweetblood?" 

Blinking rapidly, I sat up. Professor Dumbledore's face gradually came into focus. "Yeah?" I grunted. When had I fallen asleep? "Mmmahh. What time is it?"

_Wait a minute._ Rubbing my eyes, I took a good hard look at my surroundings. I was on a small cot in the hospital wing. The curtains had been pulled back and I could see Madam Pomfrey heading towards me.

"How did I get here? Why didn't you wake me up, you said you wanted to walk out the door. Did the Ministry reject my explanation? How long have I been asleep?" I shot off the questions angrily. I didn't like this waking up in different places shit. It made me nervous and defensive.

"It is Saturday. The Healers said you should not be disturbed, no matter how important the news. Respecting their wishes, I brought you back here and waited until Madam Pomfrey felt you were well enough to be woken up." Dumbledore explained, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh. Huh. I'd thought someone other than you might have needed to question me before I left the hospital. I mean, I was being threatened with Azkaban."

"Yes, well that had nothing to do with me. In fact, I barely had to say anything at all. It seems the Sweetblood name still commands a certain amount of respect from a few wizard families. Families who just happen to have connections to the Minster of Magic."

Before I could question him about that last statement, Pomfrey shoved a steaming goblet into my hands.

"Here, take this before you eat breakfast."

_Breakfast? I must have slept all night. Did she bring me coffee? I haven't had coffee in ages._

"I know Madam Pompfrey wants to make sure you make a full recovery, so I will leave you in her very capable hands. I am glad to see you are doing better, Astrid." Watching Dumbledore leave, I sighed. For every one question I had, his answer only conjured up three more questions.

"What, this isn't coffee." I said, turning back to Pomfrey as I examined the goopy red liquid in my goblet. I brought it close to my nose and inhaled the steam. "Ugh! Holy hell, are you trying to kill me?"

It was _definitely_ not coffee. Utterly disgusted and disappointed, I held it out for her to take, but Pomfrey merely clucked her tongue. "Not a chance. But I'll tell you what, drink that and you can leave."

"Fine." I snapped, steeling myself. Pinching my nose, I gulped the contents. Muscling my way past my gag reflex, I swallowed the potion and immediately dropped the goblet on the floor and dry heaved.

"I can only hope that will keep you from visiting me for the rest of the year. Oh and you got a letter in the mail yesterday while you were sleeping." Pomfrey said with a satisfied smile, pulling out a very official looking envelope. "And don't forget your wand. Now off with you."

Grimacing from the potion, I snatched my wand and the letter from her. "Finally." I growled, getting to my feet. Even though she'd returned my wand to me, I didn't feel any sort of remorse about having knocked her out with the Stunning Spell; that potion had pretty much evened the playing field.

_Damn that was nasty._

Immensely relieved, I made my out into the hallway, which was deserted. Standing on my own two feet, I realized that Pomfrey had given me a horribly doctored energy replenishing drink probably packed with who knew how many vitamins.

"Hag probably spent hours coming up with the aftertaste. Bleh." I wiped my face on the corner of my robe.

A thought suddenly occurred to me and I halted mid-step in the hallway. Where was Prince?

_Did they take him? No. He's probably hunting outside somewhere. Probably half-starved since no one likes to go near him let alone feed him._

Satisfied with that, I continued on down the hall. For a moment there I had felt almost panicked. Running a hand through my hair, I grimaced. I needed to take a shower. I hadn't had one in two days. Disgusted with myself, I took the stairs down to the entrance hall. When I reached the marble staircase I hesitated. Should I even bother going to my room?

_No._

"I'll use the locker room showers." I decided.

Besides, it was Saturday. I only had one class today and no work, which meant I would have lots of time to brood over the dark thoughts hovering ever closer at the back of my mind.

"Wait a minute, I have that duel with Ron today and…maybe an interview?" I said hopefully, examining the letter in my hand.

It was addressed to a Ms. Astrid Vanderhorn-Sweetblood. The handwriting was very feminine and official looking. Running my fingers across the rich creamy paper, I took a deep breath. I really needed this job.

Walking slowly down the stairs and across the entrance hall, I carefully tore open the letter and scanned its contents. My eyes caught on some of the finer details and I went over the letter again, disbelieving.

She's already done a background check on me. Well. That was rather presumptuous of her. I haven't even been interviewed yet. I wonder if the Ministry has released the information about me being a half-breed yet…probably not since they haven't been able to identify that other half.

"Duties will entail," I began mockingly, "various household tasks including but not limited to, the welfare of my son." I raised an eyebrow, frowning. "Sounds like she's asking me to baby-sit. Huh. I guess I'll just have to show up on Saturday like she asks." I said, pocketing the letter.

He must be a real brat if she's offering so much. But I really don't care, five Galleons is five Galleons. Hmm…but why would she need a background check for a baby-sitter? Eh, rich people. Probably wants him to have the best of care or some shit. Funny that I would pass if that's the case.

I smirked, shaking my head. I could see the headline now. Bitchy American half-breed eats child.

Strolling across the entrance hall and towards the Dark Arts corridor, I wondered how I was going to make it through the year. I could hardly believe this was only my first week at Hogwarts. It felt like I'd been here for months.

Sighing, I continued on and opened the girls' locker room door. Or at least I tried to.

"Why…ugh. Fine. I'll just use the boys' locker room."

_Why would someone lock the door? I'm too tired to fool around with any curses or counter hexes right now. I just want a damn shower._

Yanking on the boys' locker room door with unnecessary force—I'd figured it'd be locked too—I nearly dislocated my arm.

"Argh! What the hell is wrong with this place? Hey, is anybody in here?" I asked, leaning inside the doorway. When there was no response I fished out my wand. "Expiscor masculine."

A small blue light darted out of my and disappeared into the depths of the locker room. If it found any boys it would send up blue sparks. A minor spell, it was easily tricked and subdued, but it came highly recommended for first-time moms according to some magazine I'd read while at Number 12.

Nothing. I was satisfied because I seriously doubted any boy in a school locker room would bother denying his gender. Boys are such sensitive, insecure things. Snatching up a pair of sweats and a shirt, I played it safe anyway and stepped into a curtained shower before stripping.

"Merlin that feels good." I sighed contentedly sometime later, simply enjoying the feel of a hot shower.

Ducking my head under the water one last time, I resigned myself to the cold of the locker room. I turned off the water and reached for my towel.

As I did so, I immediately became aware of footsteps. My shoulder's tensed and my heart rate sped up a bit in alarm as I listened to rustling clothes and the sound of a curtain sliding back before the shower was turned on.

_Shit. How…ah._ _Probably came in while my head was under the showerhead._

Taking a calming breath, I shook my head. It wasn't a big deal, I'd just have to leave before whoever was in the stall next to me was done.

_No need to freak out._

Puzzled at my restlessness, I wrung out my hair. What was wrong with me? Normally I wouldn't bat an eyelash at being caught someplace I wasn't supposed to be. Grabbing the clothes I'd taken with me in the stall, I yanked them on. Stepping out of the shower, I wadded my dirty clothes into a bundle before throwing them into a nearby hamper. As I did so, I remembered that I hadn't had my lap around the castle yet. That would warm me up for the duel and help take my mind off this entire past week.

_I hope._

Leaving the locker rooms, I trudged through the courtyard and down the hill. I did a few stretches, freezing my ass off while I did so. Steam rose up from my wet hair and I took a few minutes to dry it with my wand. Finally, when I was unable to put it off any longer, I began a slow jog around the castle.

* * *

"Excuse me. Excuse me. Ex_cu_se me." I practically yelled. A large crowed had gathered together in the Dark Arts corridor, preventing me from accessing Emrys room. 

Tilting my head up to peer over the crowed, I glimpsed the problem. Some idiot couldn't get the door open. Disgusted, I began pushing my way through the crowed, occasionally zapping the more persistent on-lookers.

"Bloody door!" I heard Ron swear as I broke through the last group of bystanders.

My eyes raked over him condescendingly. Idiot couldn't even get the door open. "Allow me."

The noise level in the hall dropped as Ron faced me, a belligerent look on his face. I saw Hermione tug on Ron's arm when he didn't move. Muttering something under his breath, he stepped back to join Harry and other Griffindors.

"Oh yeah, like she can get it open." The ruddy-faced boy from the other day—the one who had flipped me off—sneered.

My wand appeared in my hand and he flinched. Several Ravenclaws and Slytherins snickered.

This was so stupid, I thought, tapping my wand against the knots in the door. I whispered the password I had worked out the last time I'd had Emry's class, unwilling to share the hard won information. The door swung open and I heard cheers and exclamations of disbelief behind me.

Entering the room, I crossed over to the raised, elongated strip in the center of the gym. Once I mounted the dueling platform, I found myself crossing my arms and staring off into space as I waited for Ron. Should I be here after what happened in the hallway with Sarlow? I was a half-breed now. Perhaps I should lay a little low for a while until I knew…what I was capable of.

Cautiously, I drifted towards that strange wad of emotions lurking in my mind. Excitement and the roar of a hundred heartbeats made me jerk and I hastily drew away. Blinking, I came to and stared around me in surprise. What might have been half of the student body had managed to crowd into the room as Ron joined me at the center of the dueling platform.

Sighing deeply, I relaxed my muscles as much as I could and prepared to duel. It was hard though, the lurking fear of loosing control plagued my mind and made me uneasy.

"Terms?" I asked him, making sure my voice cut out over the crowed. The noise in the room dropped and I gazed out over the assembled crowd, noting the presence of Professors Snape, Emry, and McGonagall.

My eyes locked on Professor Snape and frowned. As if it were completely natural, I automatically plucked his thread out of the jumbled mass and wrapped a mental hand around it. I felt compelled to crush it.

"First blood!" Ron said dramatically, eliciting approving cheers. Jerked out of my reverie, I stared over at my cousin.

_Is he my cousin?_

"Don't be an idiot." I snapped, instinctively knowing that would be a very, very bad idea. I felt my gut tighten as memories from the hallway skirted through my mind. "There are too many people here to take the chance of your spell hitting them."

Ron went rigid, his face almost apocalyptic with anger. "First three hits." He finally spat.

"Spell limitations?"

"No."

"Very well. Professor Emrys, will you take up the count?" The wiry Auror nodded from where he stood and I turned my back on Ron.

"One…two…three!"

On three I spun around and my eyebrows shot up in surprise as a jet of blue light darted towards me. Like the day before with the crash dummies, I sidestepped the hex. Ron was better than I had given him credit for. He wasn't fast by any means, but still, his delivery wasn't too shabby.

His stance, however, was terrible. He had his entire body facing me head on, providing me with an easy target. And the spells he was casting were…inelegant. His wrist movement wasn't sloppy, but it was too loose. He needed to tighten it up. Also, the spells he chose were spoken aloud, alerting me to their execution so I could step clear of the spell even before he finished casting it. I hadn't had that advantage with the stuffed dummy.

I watched Ron grow more and more agitated as I carelessly evaded his spells. I chuckled. "What's the matter Weasley, can't hit me?"

He swore and threw an Engorgement Charm at me. Snickering, I ducked and began to walk towards him. Confused, he began to fire off more spells. One particularly potent curse did manage to singe an end of my robe as I dipped, dropped, and darted. My playful mood dimmed. This was one of my favorite robes.

Frowning, I thought about my first day at Hogwarts when he had insulted me before the entire school. An inaudible growl grew in my chest and I felt a cold tendril reach up from the depths of my essence. As my body temperature dropped I felt panicked sweat break out on my forehead.

_No more games, I must end this and end it quickly before…_

Not bothering to take the time to complete that thought, I raised my wand and shot off three consecutive curses, my wrist a blur of precise movements. Lavender, pink, and yellow, the spells erupted from the tip of my wand so rapidly it was as if they had left it at the same time.

The first curse struck Ron's knee, the second his stomach, and the third his chest. "This was a mistake and a waste of my time. Grow up Ron, and next time, don't square off. Stand at an angle so you're not such an easy target." My voice was tight and acidic, more from the concentration required to control myself than my disgust with Ron.

Without another word I left the platform. As I left the crowd was silent. I could hear a few cheers from where my house stood, but most of the student body just watched me with wide eyes. With a self-deprecating smirk on my face, I left the room. I knew they were all thinking about the other day in the hallway. Perhaps the ones who hadn't witnessed it first hand had thought it a sham, or too incredulous to believe. The ones that had been there…I met the gaze of Neville Longbottom. He had stayed near the back of the room near the door. I felt the hunger rise up in recognition and swallowed convulsively.

_Smart boy. I'd have stood by an exit too if I were you._

By the look on his face, I could tell he was trying not to flee from the room in panic. The predatory urge to main and feed on his pain must have shown in my eyes for just a moment because he retreated a step. Pressing a hand to my stomach, I blanched and knew he could read the horror and fear in my eyes.

_I'm sorry, Neville. If only you knew how sorry I was…_

Seeing the wary confusion in his face, I lowered my eyes and ducked through the door. I had to calm down.

* * *

**(A/N):**

**Alright! I've managed to crank out another chapter. Yay for me. I think it's been like nearly a year since I've submitted an update. Wow. That's really sad. I don't know if I'll ever be able to finish this thing at the rate I'm going despite the fact that I already have an outline written (I wrote the ending too). I have a serious motivation problem. It's pathetic.**

**Anyway, I hope this was entertaining for anyone actually reading this story.**

**Cheers, the author**


	17. Realizations

"**Love is often gentle, desire always a rage." Mignon McLaughlin, **_**The Second Neurotic's Notebook**_**, 1966**

* * *

Chapter 17 

I took refuge in the dungeon, the coolness of my skin and the rapid beating of my heart at odds with each other. I ran, my feet flying behind me as I fled down unlit corridors and splashed through small puddles.

My breathing was loud and desperate when I finally hit a dead end. I slammed my fist against the wall, leaning against it. The increasingly familiar urges welled up within me, refusing to be quelled no matter my concentration. I moaned as the magic coursed through my legs and arms, pooling in my chest.

"Help." I cried softly as my hair began to move restlessly around my face.

I didn't know who I expected to help me. Madam Pomfrey? Tonks? My mouth began to ache and I tentatively explored the source of pain with my tongue. I felt my eyeteeth and gasped as I felt them elongating.

The darkness of the dungeon also seemed to be lightening and I blinked. Yes, I could now make out the fractured surface of the wall I was facing. Sufficiently freaked out, I stumbled backwards away from the wall and tripped over a loose stone. Or at least I would have if my body hadn't suddenly twisted on its own violation and landed me in a defensive crouch.

A sudden giddiness filled me and maniacal laughter tinged with hysteria bubbled up my throat. I recoiled at the sound and clamped my mouth shut. With my voice still echoing back to me, I stared down the length of the corridor. I don't know why I was running, perhaps because I could. It was strange, down here in the damp dark I felt…safe. Safer than I had in days—months even. There were no people here to judge me, to condemn me, or spit at me.

_No one to tempt me._

With that thought, I sped up, my feet light on the stone steps that I hurtled down as I turned a corner. My fingers trailed along the wall and with a start, I realized that I was falling, almost flying, down the narrow stone staircase. I jerked my hand away from the wall and as a result lost my balance. With a heavy thud, I landed at the bottom of the stairs.

"Whoa." I breathed, my pulse beating excitedly. Absently, I wiped my slimy hand on my robes and shook out my legs.

I felt energized, like I could go on running like this forever. I liked running. I was good at it. My lips twitched. Good thing too, or else I would have died a long time ago be it from a rabid dog or a rampaging hippogriff. Animals had never liked me—had they known I wasn't human? Had my father known?

With a growl I took off again, loosing myself within the passageways that had become more like tunnels the further I descending into Hogwart's dungeon. I tried jumping more, lifting my feet higher off the ground as I ran. I swung around one corner and sucked in air as I came face to face with another dead end. It was odd because even down here in the very depths of the dungeon, there was no light. And despite my adapting vision, I could only make out vague shapes in the blackness.

So how did I know I was at a dead end? How had the muscles in my body known to freeze and abruptly cease my mad journey? I shook my head, forcing the creepy surreal feeling that had carried me down here from me.

"What am I doing?" I whispered. Turning around, I leaned my back against the wall and slowly slid down it.

Crossing my legs, I sat. No sound pervaded my private little part of the dungeon save the quiet dripping of water from the ceiling. Absently, I wondered just how much of Hogwarts extended under the lake.

I sat there leaning against the wall for a long time, assessing how I felt. Quite frankly, I'd never felt physically better in my entire life. I could feel the unnatural strength in my limbs, the ready power in my chest, and the keenness of my eyes and ears. I felt…good. Powerful. Dangerous.

But I also felt unstable—as if I wasn't sure what I'd do next. This weird _impulsiveness_ was unsettling. I knew that I couldn't trust myself around others for fear that I would…well, that was the problem. I didn't know what I would do. I almost felt like a stranger inside my own body. I was so used to being in control of everything, even my emotions.

But now…I sighed, and the sound was almost deafening. I felt like one great jumble of fleeting passions. As if I could flare up in anger and cool down just as suddenly in the blink of an eye.

"All passion, no reason." I breathed quietly, my eyes closed as I leaned back against the wall.

* * *

"Miss Sweetblood?" Professor McGonagall called.

I had forgotten about the Introduction to Construction class I had signed up for every Saturday at 10AM sharp. Unfortunately, McGonagall hadn't. She had been ascending the main stairs and had caught sight of me when I had finally emerged from the dungeon. Naturally, she had found it her responsibility to personally escort me to her classroom.

I glared at her. I was sitting at the far back corner of the room, sunk low in my chair, my hair falling into my face as I drew runes on my desk. The desks around me were empty and the other students kept sneaking looks over their shoulders at me. If I happened to catch them at it, my gaze locking with theirs, they would jump and quickly return their attention back to the front of the class.

_Cowardly little shits._

Tendrils of my hair lifted away from my face at a surge of anger. I swallowed hard and forced myself to clear my mind of emotion, slamming down a mental wall between me and my emotions. It was like I was sealing off a part of my brain, locking it up to prevent it from contaminating the sane, logical and reasonable part of me.

Down in the dungeons, I had begun to experiment more and more with the Occlumency I had learned from my mother's books. Once I had calmed enough so that my teeth retracted and my body temperature returned to normal, I had begun to form barriers in my mind. This time however, the walls were not built with the intention of keep people from getting in but to keep me from getting out.

When I had the shields up facial expressions were impossible—as if I'd had a Botox injection, and the cold monotone I developed was creepy to say the least. I just quit…feeling.

My hair stopped floating and I felt the tension leave my body. "Too abrupt." I said, finally answering her question. 

"Mr. Urquhart's wand movements or his pronunciation?"

The tough looking Slytherin glowered menacingly at me. I vaguely recalled someone mentioning he was captain of the Quidditch team. As if that meant anything.

"Both."

I heard him mutter something unflattering and absently snapped my fingers. His lips clamped shut and I heard the Ravenclaw sitting next to him snicker.

McGonagall chose not to notice. "Would you please demonstrate the correct way to polish the stone?"

I looked at the roughly scratched and deeply marked stone sitting on McGonagall's desk and sighed. Sitting up straight in my seat I drew out my wand. Before McGonagall could say "Stand up" I made a checkmark like movement with my wand and muttered "_Tergo_."

The ugly rock transformed instantly into a pretty gray stone that gleamed brightly. And then the bell rang. Everyone rose to their feet and began filing out the door. McGonagall called out a chapter assignment, eliciting a handful of groans.

Not wanting to risk physically touching the other students, I stayed seated. Once they were gone, I let go of the shield holding back my emotions and shuddered. Every time I cut myself off like that it became harder to bring down the wall. I hated the unnatural stillness and indifference that engulfed me. When I let the wall dissolve it was like coming up for air after drowning.

Taking a cleansing breath, I pushed back my chair. But as I turned to leave, I was stopped by McGonagall.

"Yeah?" I asked neither moving towards her nor away from her.

She was giving me a hard look from behind her desk. "Have you learned anything today, Miss Sweetblood?"

I frowned. "What?"

"Did you learn anything today in my class?" She asked. I looked at her for a moment before answering.

"No."

She pursed her lips. "Since you arrived?"

Scratching my chin I sat down on the edge of a nearby desk. Had I learned anything since school had started? I almost laughed.

I was forced to assume she wasn't alluding to the fact that I was a murderous halfbreed with family ties to the Dark Lord.

"I don't really know…" Interesting. I hadn't really given it much thought considering everything else that was going on in my life.

"Are the classes you are currently taking challenging you?"

I sighed and ran a hand idly down my neck. I could feel a couple faint scars there from a tiny kitten that had leapt out of my neighbor's porch to attack me when I was little.

"Honestly? No. I already know what's being taught and often have a better understanding of what's going on than some of the teacher's here. The only class that I find worth my time at all is Healing. Some things you just can't learn from a book." Granger's face popped into my minds eye and I snorted in disgust. "Contrary to popular belief."

"So you have read all of your course books then?" McGonagall asked, raising her severe eyebrows.

"All of them."

"All?"

"Yes, all." I snapped. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. When the need to smack her subsided, I stared at her again.

"This might be difficult for you to grasp but Hermione Granger is not the only talented witch at Hogwarts anymore." I paused and then smiled humorlessly. "Though perhaps she is the only human one."

A disapproving frown twisted her lips and I gritted my teeth. She stared at me for a moment before giving me a brisk nod.

"Very well. If you would please draw your wand, I have a series of questions I'd like you to answer."

As McGonagall began arranging various miscellaneous objects on her desk, I frowned. "What? Why?"

She ignored me and instead asked me to transfigure the crusty old boot before her into a skunk. A series of orders followed this one, ranging from the patterns on the skunk's back to the length of its fur.

This got old fast and soon I was just randomly transfiguring the objects on her desk into whatever took my fancy. I even began using some of my own spells—old ones I'd tampered with to meet my needs.

"Enough!" McGonagall shouted, her face an ugly vermilion color. Feeling a bit like a sadist, I shot a spell at her walls that turned them a hideous orange color.

"Thirty points from Slytherin!"

I barked a laugh. Points? Who the hell cared about intangible points? Nevertheless, I stopped to survey my handy work.

The skunk was now wearing a pink apron and cap adorned with white poodles. The apple on her desk was now a menacing cactus resting in a glazed red pot that whistled tunelessly. Next to it, a ragged teddy bear with one eye kept changing color and texture, ranging from coarse brick red to downy soft blue.

There were now also seven lampshades, all of which had grown fangs and spindly legs that allowed them to scurry around the room gnawing on chair legs. The last straw of course had been transfiguring all of the desks into purple baby hippos.

"Put away your wand." She ordered shrilly. Smirking, I did so.

I tried not to snicker as three of the baby hippos escaped out into the hall while she zapped the lampshades back to normal before they could do further damage to her precious books and the other furniture. I felt some grudging respect for the old lady as she cleaned up my mess in record time. I consoled myself with the fugitive hippos.

True, my actions were childish, but I felt a vindictive sort of pleasure watching her temporarily struggle with the walls. A polite tap on the door interrupted McGonagall as she began to yell at me.

It was Professor Snape. He nodded coolly to McGonagall, only raising an eyebrow at the state of her classroom.

"Dumbledore has requested that I escort Miss Sweetblood to his office."

Breathing heavily, McGonagall snapped her mouth shut. Her lips thinned until nearly vanishing she pressed them together so hard. She didn't say a word as I lazily spun around and left the room. Snape closed the door behind us.

He didn't say anything once the door was closed, merely gave me a bland stare. I tilted my head to one side, running a hand through my hair as I shrugged. But then something strange happened.

Saliva practically dripped from my fangs as some other sense I possessed picked up on the knot of hate and frustration that Professor Snape always carried with him.

I felt my blood chill, my pupils expanding as my mouth parted. The moment it happened I snapped my head around and shuddered violently as I once again used my Occlumency. It was hard, so hard…

Straitening, I finally felt my face die and mutely faced my potions professor.

His pallid and gaunt face was carefully blank despite the passing shadow of disbelief I saw reflected in his eyes. He knew, oh yes he knew what I was doing to myself in order to keep the beast at bay.

"Forgive me." I said flatly. "I can't seem to resist the pull of your…pain." For that's what it was. Now that I was more—aware—of my abilities, I could practically taste the festering tumor of his misery and anger. His bitterness.

The metal divide trembled slightly as I thought about what a magnificent feast Snape would be. Hastily adverting my eyes, I stiffly proceeded down the hallway, jerking my head warningly when my Head of House moved to walk ahead of me.

If he were to turn his back on me, his stride carrying him on past me—I inhaled deeply. It would be as if he were taunting me, as if he were running away…it would be too much for me. My wall would crumble and he would die. Eventually.

At least now I knew why I had wanted to crush his life cord before the match—for the pleasure of his death.

My muscles twitched spasmodically in almost full body tremors. Dully, I could sense what I was beginning to think of as my alter ego, savagely attack the wall separating us. She was _pissed_. With only minimal effort, I ignored her.

"Miss Sweetblood," Professor Snape said, "if you continue to split yourself in half, you will in time succeed in making it a permanent arrangement."

Despite my lack of feeling, my stomach churned. The rest of the walk to Dumbledore's office was spent in silence.

* * *

"Bullshit!" I snarled, my fingers gripping the edge of the Headmaster's desk so tight it began to smoke. My hair floated sinisterly around my face.

There were big holes in my mental barrier, giving my fury a feral, almost lethal edge. I flung myself away from the desk and continued to prowl the room like I'd been doing for the past half hour. My movements were more fluid and predatory now, the speed of my gestures so fast, they appeared jerky to the others in the room.

Dumbledore thought I was an "id". A being that is totally unconscious of its inhumanity. It has only instinctual impulses to guide it. It needs immediate satisfaction even if its methods come into conflict with social and practical constraints. Supposedly, the creature had served as the bases for psychoanalysis, a form of psychotherapy used on muggles that was created by a squib by the name of Sigmund Freud.

Unlike Freud's id, however, I was not sitting on someone's shoulder holding a pitchfork. No, I was something else entirely. And according to Dumbledore, I could either bond with a more stable mind that would keep me in check, or I could face a lifetime of exile from the wizarding world. Apparently wizards had long ago hunted and killed as many of my kind as they could find. And unless I was enslaved—or bonded as the Headmaster preferred—I was a threat to be quietly and permanently exterminated.

"And what happens afterwards? After I give away the control over my abilities and magic to whomever the fuck I bond to?"

I paused in front of the fireplace, near my Head of House, and shuddered with the effort of keeping myself in check. Prince had already tried to break down Dumbledore's door, somehow sensing my distress. I'd sent him away in recognition of the obvious absence of the Headmaster's pet phoenix.

Shuddering a second time, I walked over to the armchair I'd overturned and sat in it, not caring that I looked ridiculous doing so. I was silent for a long while as I digested everything Dumbledore had—and had not—told me. In the mean time, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape watched the Headmaster watch me.

I hated them all.

When I stood up, Pomfrey actually jumped. I twitched in response, my mouth opening. I snapped it shut, my hands clenching. Pomfrey swallowed. Taking a deep breath, I looked the Headmaster right in the face.

"I'm not Potter or Granger. I'm not stupid enough to believe that you won't choose who will have control over my leash. No, you'll want to be able to manipulate them so you can control me in turn. You would use me just as Voldemort plans to, but in the name of your own cause." Madam Pomfrey sputtered and nearly choked on her protest.

I glanced at her and let my pupils dilate. She shut up real quick.

"All this time you have wanted little else but to observe me. To keep an eye on me, gauge my potential usefulness to you. Scheming old bastard that you are." I stared at the Headmaster, unmoved by the deep sorrow in his eyes for not an ounce of regret accompanied it.

"The way you use trust, loyalty, and faith to manipulate those around you is remarkable. Ruthless and revolting, but nonetheless remarkable." I spared Professor Snape a glance. He was enjoying this. I could feel it.

"But you can't stand those who refuse your administrations. Like me. Because even when I was at St. Mungo's, when I thought I'd go to Azkaban or be given to the dementors, I refused you." I gave an abrupt laugh. "I can't imagine how frustrating that must have been." I looked down at my hands for a second and then back up at Dumbledore.

"And so you lied to me. Said you didn't know what I was. But you've suspected what I am—an Id? Suspected it all along. Not now, or just recently like you claim. That's a bald face lie." I hissed.

"Ever since the burrow, you've guessed. That's why you continued to watch me last summer." I stood up again and began to pace the room. "When I cracked in the hallway, when I finally lost control—it was you. Self-assured and oh-so confident that you were in control." I trailed off for a moment, remembering.

"You overestimated my ability to trust, believing me too naive, too oblivious to realize that you had barred me from accessing your emotions. Or you did not believe me strong enough to notice. But I did notice. And nearly killed you when I did." I spat the words out, hating him for tricking me, hating myself for not seeing it sooner.

"Only if you had already realized what I was could you have known to do that, to guard not only your mind, but your emotions from me." I had realized this from the moment I had set foot in the Heatmaster's office. Recognition flashing through me the instant I realized his emotions were absent—hidden like they had been that day in the hallway.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and continued to look at me; he didn't offer a reply. In fact he hadn't spoken at all since my initial outburst. Pomfrey rallied to Dumbledore's defense.

"You are a child! The Professor had the right to withhold such dangerous information, and probably with good cause."

"Dangerous information?" I said incredulously. "This information tells me what I am, it will allow me to research my abilities and let me take the proper precautions so I won't spontaneously rip out the beating heart of the first kid I happed to pass by in the hall!"

Goosebumps rose on my arms. "That information" I said, my voice a horse whisper, "would have prevented me from dividing my brain in half with Occlumency in a piss-poor attempt to protect you and all his," I pointed at Dumbledore "precious students from harm. Dangerous? The only thing dangerous was withholding that information, you stupid cow."

Before she could recover, I returned my attention back to the puppet master, the man who held all the strings—or tried to.

"As far as _bonding_ goes," I spat out the word, "hell no. I'm not going to let you order me to do a damn thing. Whoever it ends up being…" I sighed heavily, feeling as if a heavy blanket had been set across my shoulders.

Because despite my loathing, I knew that these instinctual impulses, the need to immediately fulfill every irrational thought or desire—needed to stop. If bonding was the answer, I had no real choice. I would enslave myself, but it would be done on my own terms and no one else's. I told Dumbldore as much.

"And the only person who will know the identity of my master will be me. I will make that certain."

"It is rare for an Id to find a person capable or willing to bond. What will you do until you find him?" Dumbledore asked, looking older than ever.

"What I have always done, Headmaster. Survive."

He considered me for a moment and I wondered what he was thinking. Was he going to expel me, force me to leave Hogwarts? Or worse? Force me to stay.

"I understand that you have only been attending Hogwarts for a week now," Dumbledore began.

Had I only been here for a few days? It felt as if I had lived here for months.

"But I have spoken to all your professors and they agree. You are more than capable of taking your NEWT exams early. Though unusual, it is not unheard of. When you pass—for there is little doubt in my mind that you will—I have arranged unofficial apprenticeships for you. This will allow you to stay on at Hogwarts, but will ensure a certain distance remains between you and the rest of the student body until you find someone to bond with."

I stared wordlessly at Dumbledore, not knowing exactly what to think. Did I even want to stay at Hogwarts anymore? Would it be better to leave and fend for myself against Voldemort and the Ministry? Or hide within Hogwarts, allowing Dumbledore more chances to entrap me? His present offer made me think that the Headmaster might be planning to encourage a relationship between me and…

"Unofficial apprenticeships, Headmaster?" I asked uneasily.

"Yes. Professors Snape, Emry, and McGonagall have agreed to train you in the area of their expertise until you decide which specific field you prefer. When you have made a decision, your apprenticeship will be finalized and you'll be given the opportunity to become a master in your chosen profession."

I held very still, my face expressionless as I digested the information. My thoughts chased each other. I didn't ask if I had a choice because I knew I did. I could leave Hogwarts…or I could stay.

_But I don't know what to do._

If I leave, the Ministry—"You haven't told the Ministry." I said it as more of a statement than a question.

Dumbledore nodded. "No." The unspoken "but I might have to if you leave" hung in the air between us and I suppressed a sigh.

Thinking, I let the sound of their breathing and the surprisingly steady beating of their hearts wash over me.

If I left I would loose my mother's house, my wand, my legal status as a witch, my right to continue my education…a chance at any kind of normalcy. I would risk the chance of being captured by the Dark Lord, of starvation, of attacking muggles and magical families alike, of going insane for lack of human contact…

When I had made my decision, I stood and righted my chair. I didn't speak. I just met Dumbledore's gaze and saw that the resignation and tiredness visible in my own eyes showed in every line of his face. And just for a moment, an intangible instant, I could sense his regret—for the things he had done—and grief for what he would yet do for the greater good.

* * *

**(A/N)**

**Yeah I have no idea how long it's been since I made an update. I'm sorry:) College life is great, I love it.**

**Merry Christmas,**

**the author**


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